Torn
by Angelina K
Summary: Torn - the story of a predicament Tin-Tin must face involving life's favourite toy: her heart. It's Unnamed Sequel - Tin-Tin realizes that being a part of International Rescue can't protect her from everything. (Book 2, Chapter 9 Added)
1. Book One: Waves

The boat roars across the unruffled cobalt waves, skimming the surface as if it were merely flying across it with moderate ease. The scenery is a blur around me as I try to divert my thoughts from what seems to be occupying them more and more these days. I don't know what it is about him, but I just can't get him off of my mind.  
  
The smell of salt invades my nose but I don't notice for I am too preoccupied with my daydreams. There's a new one today, an exciting one. It involves me, him, and a deserted island where we're the only people for miles around. Just sand, water and tall palm trees shading us from the fierce rays of the summer sun. I sigh to myself, imagining what it would be like to leave Tracy Island for a while and taking him with me.  
  
I turn my head as I'm brought back to veracity by familiar voices. Alan looks at me and I pretend not to notice. If I met his sapphire eyes with my own, I know he'd read the pain I'm keeping inside. He knows me too well and to have him figure out my secret before I'm prepared to share it would break his heart - and our relationship.  
  
I glance around at the other people occupying the speedboat: Alan's brothers are all here, apart from John who is our eyes on the world from the vast eternity outside of our planet. Jeff, their father, is at the back trying to sort out the sandwiches Grandma packed us for lunch as the boat bounces over the swells, guided proficiently by Virgil.  
  
I rest my gaze on the pilot, who has become our captain for the afternoon. His chocolate hair is swept back by the wind, blowing it free of his deep russet eyes. The vibrant shirt he wears over a plain white one is open, riding the breeze like a leaf as it flaps around him. Subconsciously, I feel my heart skip a beat and I take a shaky breath before looking away.  
  
But I am unable to redirect my feelings for long before I find myself helplessly staring at him again. He turns, talking to Scott about something, and I see the smile on his tanned features. It makes my heart melt into a puddle at my feet and I feel feeble against my emotions.  
  
I don't know what has come over me these past few weeks. I've become submissive and astray and I'm not sure what to do about it. I can't talk to anyone; word travels fast between such a close-knit family. Alan would find out and I don't want to ruin what I have with him. I desperately want to tell Virgil of my newfound feelings for the far-fetched chance that he feels the same way. I want so much, but don't at the same time.  
  
The boat swerves and he laughs, a sound I've come to replay in my mind for days after I hear it. Waves toss high in the air, sprinkling us with their sodden droplets. I'm deaf to everything around me, and my eyes focus on only one person in the boat. Jeff hands me a sandwich and I barely notice but murmur a thank you as he moves on, giving one to each of his sons. I unwrap it mechanically, as if I don't have any control over my fingers, and take a bite without comprehending that it's one of my favourites - ham and cheese.  
  
My heart is tearing in two as I look at Alan. He breaks off a piece of his sandwich and gives it to a sea gull that has landed on top of the cooler. The bird takes it and hops around, looking for more food from anyone willing to give it some. I'm not hungry and the small sacrifice of a corner of my crust isn't something I give a second thought to. Alan looks up at me and I can sense him studying the distant expression I know I'm displaying openly on my face.  
  
I have everything I've ever wanted - a large family, though we aren't exactly related, and friends who make life worthwhile, not to mention a boyfriend who shows more interest in me than anyone ever has. So why do I feel so horrible, and why am I all of a sudden engrossed in thoughts of his older brother? I don't know what's wrong, but I wish it would just go away and things would return to normal.  
  
Scott takes the wheel and Virgil and Alan begin a drunken dance around the boat, swaying to its rhythm on the waves. I want to die, to have the floor open and swallow me up. I don't want to feel this way, I never did. I didn't ask for it, but I can't make it leave. I feel so guilty, so horrific for not being satisfied for what I have. Isn't that what happens more often than not, though? We have what we desire, and then we wish and hope for more than we can obtain.  
  
I have Alan, and I love him. I can't have Virgil, but I crave him.  
  
My eyes rove around my surroundings and finally settle on the distorted ocean soaring by underneath the boat. The sun glints off the water, creating a bright reflection of its lustrous golden shape floating in the sky. I wait until my vision clouds before letting my mind wander back to that secluded island, where there aren't any problems to deal with. There, at least, I can seize what I want without destroying what I already possess, in the silence of my conscience. 


	2. Book One: Rendezvous

You all are awesome :) I'm so glad you reviewed. All my short stories are only one chapter, but because of your reviews and the ideas I have in my twisted little brain, I thought it might be worth continuing this story. I hope you like it and will keep reviewing!  
  
Angelina  
  
+++++++++++  
  
My room is one large shadow, draped over me like a monster and making it hard to breathe. Deep inside, I know it's not the darkness doing this to me as I stare at the ceiling, lying on my back on the bed. It's so quiet; I can almost imagine I have been swallowed up like I previously wanted to. No one is around and I haven't opened my mouth to say a single word since supper. It feels so nice not to be needed for once, and I can spend time on my own.  
  
There's a knock at my door that jolts me out of what could have been a pleasant daydream and I sit up, wondering who could still be awake in the household. It's well past midnight and the boys are usually the kind to retire early and rise before the sun in case they are needed for an emergency. I clear my throat, noticing that my mouth feels like the Mojave Desert and my tongue like sandpaper. "Come in," I call quietly, not wishing to disturb my father who sleeps in the next room.  
  
My door slides open soundlessly, lifting into the roof. In the doorway, showered in the faint light from the moon slanting through the window behind him, is Virgil.  
  
For a moment, I'm afraid I've stopped breathing. I regain my equanimity as best I can and settle back against the pillows, thankful that the room is shady and his visibility is restricted.  
  
He presses the button and the door slips down from it's hiding place. He looks around, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. Once he can make out the sections of my room, he glances at the spot I had occupied but I'm no longer there.  
  
He turns and I'm beside him, feeling lost and vulnerable. I wonder why he's here, as I had not asked him to come. He asks if I'm feeling all right, having noticed I'd been so out of it since the boat ride that afternoon. I nod without a sound, though the question didn't even register itself. He peers at me worriedly and I can tell he's curious as to the change in my behavior.  
  
I can't tell him why I'm so out of it. No, I can never tell him. No one can ever know. But just because I can't form the words in my mind doesn't mean I can't carry out actions that will portray my feelings.  
  
Before I can talk sense into myself, I back him against the wall and look up, reading the confusion present on his face. He doesn't know what I'm going to do, and to be honest, neither do I. It's too late to back out of it now as I close the space between us and tilt my head up, locating his mouth for a timid kiss.  
  
I can feel him trying to will his body to protest, but it won't listen. He puts his arms around me and proceeds with the kiss as I reach up and run my fingers through his hair like I've wanted to for so long. I'm quivering so terribly that I'm sure my legs will give out at any time and I don't notice the tears running down my cheeks.  
  
He pushes me back gently, holding me against him so I don't have to rely on my weak knees to keep me up. "Why are you crying?" Virgil whispers near my neck.  
  
"I. . .I don't know," I confess. I try to wipe the tears away but more take their place. "This is so wrong. Alan. . .what about Alan?"  
  
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."  
  
This is a side of him I've never seen, but it sends a thrill through me I've never felt. He's returning my hidden feelings, ones I've buried for long enough. I shake my head, feeling guilt form a knot in my stomach, and rest it against his shoulder. My body racks with soft sobs as I cry into the green material of his sweater.  
  
He hugs me tightly, letting me thoroughly soak the fabric. It's the embrace of someone who understands, someone who won't push for details but will listen when I want to speak, not the nervous hold of a person who doesn't know what to say or do. I feel so terrible about what I've done, but at the same time, can't quell the desire to kiss him again. I sigh, trying to stop the flow of tears before I lift my head.  
  
Finding my lips once more, he kisses me harder and my remaining strength drains before I can grasp it. I collapse in his arms, hating myself for enjoying what he's doing to me. I can't prevent the tears any more, but he nuzzles my hair patiently until I can catch my breath. What would Alan do if he knew? Would he loathe me as much as I do at this moment? I don't even want to think those culpable thoughts, as I know they'll just make me sick with censure.  
  
"We can't do this," I moan finally, barely audible to my own ears. I have to banish these feelings before they consume me.  
  
He doesn't answer but elevates my head soothingly to kiss me again. I can't fight it and find myself kissing back, everything I'm feeling disappearing and being replaced by passion and something I can only define as love. I cling to him closely, not wanting to let go.  
  
After a few desperate minutes, I force myself to stop responding to his kiss. I'm tired and weary, my emotions in turmoil and battling it out inside me. I don't have the strength to keep this fervor going and I don't want him to think I've reconsidered. The kiss ceases and he presses his lips to my forehead for a second before pushing the button to open my door. He's read my mind and recognizes what I'm going through, both mentally and physically. I watch as he silently disappears, the door closing behind him and leaving me alone in the dark again. 


	3. Book One: Confrontation

A few mornings later, I wake to the sound of violent coughing. It alarms me and I jump out of bed, pull on my housecoat and slippers and hurry into the kitchen as the sound seems to be coming from there. Is it my father? I don't know how well he'd be able to stand up to a cold or even the flu. He's not nearly as strong as he used to be.  
  
But the sight in the kitchen is a relief in more ways than one. John is hunched over the table, trying to down a steaming cup of coffee without coughing his lungs out. It seems he is the one who has the virus. I sit across from him and pour myself a small mug of tea, realizing my father must already be prowling around the house cleaning something before the others are up.  
  
"What are you doing here John?" It's not the best way to greet him, but I'm in a blunt mood this morning.  
  
He shakes his head, unable to answer because of a round of sneezes. He leans away from the table, not wanting to spread his germs and I cringe.  
  
Jeff enters the room and puts some bread in the toaster. "Alan left last night after John radioed in to say he was sick. Being up in the space station when you have the flu is not something any of us would want to endure, Tin-Tin," he explains for his son.  
  
I nod in understanding, but inside my heart is hammering with amazing strength. Without Alan around, I can easily avoid his probing looks and I only have to worry about keeping my relationship with Virgil from his family members. I try not to show how pleased I am that Alan is gone. I don't think I've ever been glad he wasn't in the house and the feeling of guilt rises in my stomach again, something I've become familiar with in the past few days.  
  
The hours tick by slowly until the sun begins to set on the horizon, bathing Tracy Island in pale light. I stand on the deck, looking out at the water as the faint breeze whips my hair about my face. The tranquil scene is such a contradiction to what is playing out in my brain as I stare mindlessly at the ocean.  
  
A beeping noise brings my head up and I notice I'm the only one near enough to the lounge to hear it. I walk back inside and press the button on Mr. Tracy's desk to open the connection when I see Alan's eyes blinking hastily in tune with the noise. I take a deep breath and attempt to make myself look as if everything were normal.  
  
"Hi, Tin-Tin. Sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye." Alan's smiling face makes me want to break down and cry; he has no idea what I'm doing to him behind his back.  
  
"That's okay, Alan. I just hope John gets better soon," I answer mechanically, my eyes barely focused on his picture.  
  
"Me too. Say, is father around?"  
  
"I think he's in the lab with Brains. I'll go get him." I glance up to see Virgil enter and avoid his gaze as he picks up an easy conversation with his brother. To an outsider, it wouldn't appear that anything was out of place, but I know Virgil is feeling like he's betraying Alan I'm amazed he can be so casual to him.  
  
I find Mr. Tracy exactly where I guessed I would, puttering around in the laboratory while Brains tests out some new equipment. I tell him Alan wants to speak to him in the living room and then return to my post on the balcony, wistfully looking at the painted sky.  
  
I detect a presence beside me and know who it is without turning my head. He stands next to me and rests his arms on the railing, watching my strained expression in the moonlight. "Want to go for a walk?" Virgil asks after a few minutes of silence.  
  
"Sure," I reply, following him down the stairs to the beach. I take off my shoes and leave them on the bottom step with his before letting the cool sand chill the undersides of my feet and compress between my toes.  
  
We amble along quietly, not saying anything but enjoying the other's company. The waves lap against the shore, creating a romantic mood I'm too apprehensive to detect. He notices my uneasiness and takes my hand in his as we stroll, captivated in our own thoughts. I raise my eyes to the sky and look at the stars, knowing Alan is up there somewhere - alone, and not knowing what is going on when he can't see.  
  
Halfway down the beach we stop and he kisses me. It is the only time we've managed to get unaccompanied by one of the other people on the island. We savor the moment, his lips warm and comforting on mine until we pull apart and carry on down the sand.  
  
We're startled by a loud sneeze and I quickly drop Virgil's hand and turn to look back at the villa. John's eyes are closed as he continues to cough and he disappears inside to get a glass of water. Beside him is Scott, and although his fair-haired brother was looking in the opposite direction, he is staring hard in ours, a remorseless expression on his face. I glance at Virgil, afraid our secret affair has been discovered.  
  
We start towards the house and pick up our shoes on the way. Both of us are reluctant to enter the building, as we know Scott will most likely confront us if we meet him. He gives my hand one last reassuring squeeze and takes one door while I go up the stairs and take the other. At least this way, his older sibling will only catch one of us at a time.  
  
Unfortunately, it's me.  
  
Scott's waiting for me on the deck and I try to walk past him and pull open the door, but he hinders the movement. I'm forced to stand facing him and barely succeed in acting collected as he glares at me. "How long, Tin-Tin?" His voice is a low growl, filled with resentment towards me, the one sneaking around under his brother's nose.  
  
I set my mouth in a firm line, wishing to appear innocent. "What are you talking about, Scott?"  
  
"You know what I'm talking about. Don't lie to me." I don't know if I've ever seen him appear so livid with one of us before. "How long?" He repeats.  
  
I know I've been caught and look illicitly at my sand-covered feet. "A few days ago, the night of our trip in the boat."  
  
"Does Alan know?"  
  
My eyes snap up to glower at him. "What do you think?" It takes all my self- control not to scream at him for being so dense. "Of course Alan doesn't know!" My defensive behavior is just a way to hide my remorse and Scott knows it as well as I do.  
  
"Does Virgil make you happy?" I want to kill him for his soft yet menacing tone. It irritates me he can appear so calm when I'm about to blow my top and I'm not even the one who ought to be angered.  
  
But I've never thought about it in terms of happiness before. I nod slowly, looking down at the sand where our footprints are still visible.  
  
"Did Alan?"  
  
The question catches me off guard and I glance back at him. "Yes," I respond in a whisper, "Yes, Alan always made me happy."  
  
"So why aren't you being truthful with him?"  
  
I can't believe he expects me to tell his brother I'm cheating on him. "What would I say?"  
  
"If you want to continue with Virgil, you aren't going to be able to keep it concealed much longer," Scott says astutely and I know he's right.  
  
I let out a sigh, realizing I'm going to have to expose Alan to our clandestine relationship soon. "What am I going to do, Scott?" I ask desperately, knowing I'm going to break his heart and shatter what's left of mine. Virgil is going to have a lot of pieces to pick up.  
  
If I were heartless and cold, I would have dropped Alan as soon as the prospect of Virgil came along. Am I fickle enough to risk everything I have experienced with him for someone new? The damage has already been done, and I can't go back and change what I feel for his older brother.  
  
"You're on your own, Tin-Tin," Scott replies, giving me a final incisive look before going inside.  
  
I gaze at the dark sky, the sun barely visible now. The stars shine brightly above my head and I pick a single large one out, wondering if it's Thunderbird 5. Inside that little speck in the dark blanket above my head is Alan, and he has no idea what awaits him when he returns to earth. 


	4. Book One: Reassurance

I can hear the heated words even from the living room where I'm stationed on the couch, waiting for Scott to finish chewing Virgil out. I want desperately to barge into Virgil's room and tell Scott it was entirely my fault. I instigated the kiss that started it all; I acted on my feelings when I shouldn't have. If he should be mad at anyone, it should be me, not his brother.  
  
But I don't need to tell him that. Scott's already fuming towards the person who's not being faithful to his little brother - the one he looks out for, the one he protects. I catch myself thinking again about Alan and how this is going to hurt him. It's not just him I'm worried about either. If only there was some way Virgil and I could continue our relationship without anyone finding out, and without Scott giving us away.  
  
I know that's impossible. Really, I do.  
  
A door slams and Scott stalks down the hallway towards me. He storms past and I can feel the rage bubbling out of him as if he were still yelling at me. He won't even meet my eyes, and I don't blame him.  
  
Virgil soon follows and I stand up, curious as to why he doesn't look as angry as his older sibling. He looks so calm it almost frightens me; how can a person be so composed after the intense conversation I just overhead? It's not as if I were eavesdropping. . .when Scott's mad, you know he's mad and he won't let you forget it. Especially if there's no one around and he can yell at you freely, as much as he wants.  
  
John is sleeping in the cliff house above Thunderbird 2, a sort of quarantine so the rest of us don't get sick. Gordon and his father have disappeared to the mainland to grab some groceries with Grandma Tracy and my father is out in the garden, tending the plants beneath the torchlight. We got lucky this time, but as the days wear on, it's going to become harder and harder to conceal our feelings for each other - especially if Scott's around and decides to give us the silent treatment as he tends to do after he's exploded.  
  
"How did it go?"  
  
Virgil raises an eyebrow. "You didn't hear?"  
  
I nod ruefully. "Of course I did. But why do you look so. . ."  
  
"At ease? I'm used to Scott's crabbiness, it doesn't faze me any more." He sees the grave expression on my face and gives me a hug. "Tin-Tin, please don't get so upset over this. We're in it together, and we're going to pull out of it together."  
  
"I know, Virgil, but I'm so worried about Alan." I say quietly, my thoughts once again drifting back to him, all alone in Thunderbird Five.  
  
"You know I'll be right at your side when you have to break the news to him. You do know that, don't you?" A sudden notion crosses his mind and I can see it reflected in his auburn eyes. "You are going to tell him, aren't you? I mean, you're not going to drop me as soon as Alan returns, right?"  
  
"Yes and no. The excitement I've felt with you in the last few days is so different from anything Alan ever made me feel. It's new, different, thrilling." I look up at him and do my best to smile. "I think I love you, Virgil Tracy." It takes so much courage to say, but the phrase that could make us closer or eradicate our relationship entirely falls so easily from my lips that I almost gasp in surprise.  
  
For a minute he doesn't say anything, and I think it is probably the longest sixty seconds I've ever had to live through. I want to go back in time and take back those few words that have made him go silent.  
  
He surprises me by pulling me closer to him and kissing me hard. I don't know what to make of his reaction, but give in without vacillation since we're all alone even though we're standing in the middle of the lounge. When we break apart a moment later, both trying to catch our breath, I rest my head on his shoulder and look at Alan's portrait on the wall. I can't help myself; I feel so at fault for kissing his brother and getting pleasure from it. And now, I feel even worse because what I said about loving Virgil is true.  
  
"I love you too, Tin-Tin Kyrano." The words whispered near my neck weren't expected and I tighten my hold on Virgil as he brushes his lips against my skin.  
  
"What are we going to do about Alan?" I ask after a minute, my eyes closed but still envisioning the visual rendering of Alan.  
  
"What else can we do but tell him? We'll be honest, completely truthful, and see where it takes us. It's the only thing we can do."  
  
"I guess you're right, but I don't know if I can do it. I love him so much. It's killing me." I admit to him, swallowing hard to keep my tears at bay.  
  
"Are you reconsidering us, Tin-Tin?" The question is filled with uncertainness and I open my eyes to look up at Virgil.  
  
"I. . .I don't think so. I don't know, Virgil, I just don't know!" I cry, my tears finally falling down my cheeks. "I love you, I wasn't lying when I said that. But Alan has been with me through everything these past few years. Is a history that deep worth risking for a new relationship like ours? We don't even know if we're going to survive, Virgil."  
  
"You can't think that way. We will get through this, I know we will." He lowers his head and kissed my tears away, then captures my mouth for another soft, reassuring kiss. "You have to believe me, Tin-Tin."  
  
"I do believe you."  
  
"Then we don't have anything to worry about."  
  
Inside, my heart fills with elation, hoping he's right.  
  
+++++++++  
  
Don't worry, Alan's coming soon. . .*wiggles eyebrows mischievously* Review please!  
  
Angelina 


	5. Book One: Calamity

I'm awoken at dawn by a silhouette in my room nearly a week later. He's leaning over me, shaking me gently and whispering my name. I look up groggily at Virgil and murmur something even I don't understand.  
  
It's been a protracted few days since I've been able to catch Virgil alone. Scott's always at his side, and I know he's trying to force our relationship into exile. Lucky for us, he hasn't said a word to anyone else in the house and Alan, still in Thunderbird 5, continues to be in the dark concerning our actions.  
  
John's recovering steadily and I fear the day he takes off in Thunderbird 3 to return to his post in the space station. Then Alan will be back and we'll have to tell him. We don't have a choice in that matter any more.  
  
Virgil, seeing as I'm not responding to his rather mild pokes, pulls the covers off my bed and lifts me up, much to my bleary surprise. I protest weakly before finally settling into his arms with a faint yawn, enjoying his hold on me.  
  
He walks quietly through the lounge with me still half asleep and opens the door, stepping out on the balcony. On the horizon, the sun is just beginning to rise and its beauty causes me to open my eyes fully. It's a gorgeous mosaic of golds, reds and blues with the circular sun in the center, spraying its colours in every direction. I lean against Virgil after he puts me down and we both gaze at it, finally on our own in what seems like forever.  
  
"Sometimes I wish you didn't live with your family," I say after a minute. He chuckles softly and agrees, knowing it's been hard to keep the secret under wraps.  
  
All week he and I have had to keep our exchanges casual and short, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves. Scott's barely said two words to me and only a few more to Virgil. It's harsh seeing his father giving him curious looks as he breezes past his brother without even a simple greeting. Mr. Tracy doesn't know about Virgil and I, and neither do Gordon or John. If I had it my way, Scott wouldn't know anything either.  
  
It's a bit too late for that.  
  
The sun comes up over the mountains in the distance and I let out another yawn, squinting against the brightness that has suddenly spread over the island. Everyone else will be waking up soon, and I want desperately to freeze time so we can just enjoy this moment together. A sharp wind picks up, fluttering my nightgown and I shiver. Virgil notices and we go back into the lounge, out of the cold.  
  
"How long do you figure we have?" He asks quietly as we stand facing each other.  
  
I check the clock over Mr. Tracy's desk. "Father's always the first up, and he awakens promptly at six."  
  
"Ten minutes isn't a lot of time."  
  
"We'll have to make the most of it then, won't we?" I smile at him slyly and stand on the tips of my toes to give him a kiss. "Why do you have to be so tall?" I whine lightheartedly against his lips, my neck already getting sore from having to raise my head so much.  
  
He pulls back and looks around the room. I wonder what he's thinking for a second before he clears a section on his father's desk and helps me up on it so we look at each other levelly. "Better?" He whispers.  
  
"Much." I squirm around slightly, feeling my thigh push against something on the side of the desk. I ignore it as it sticks into my leg and kiss Virgil again.  
  
After a few passion-filled minutes, we break apart and stare at each other. "You know," I start thoughtfully, "a lot of couples usually spend time talking."  
  
"What is there to talk about?" He moves in to kiss me once more but I put my hands firmly on his chest to keep him away.  
  
"Well, what do you want to know about me that you don't?"  
  
"Tin-Tin, I think I know everything."  
  
"Do you?" I wonder, enjoying the desperate look in his eyes.  
  
Virgil nods and I finally surrender to his warm mouth as it falls on mine. I hear the grandfather clock in the corner chime six and reluctantly push him off.  
  
"Father will be here soon," I breathe, risking a look over his shoulder.  
  
"I think we need a nice relaxing vacation from this island," Virgil suggests and I grin.  
  
"How would we pull that off without having people figure out we want to be alone?"  
  
He shrugs and kisses my nose. "I guess it will have to wait until we tell everybody, including Alan."  
  
"You don't have to tell me anything."  
  
I sit bolt upright at the cold voice, nearly hitting Virgil in the head as I do so. I look frantically around the room, hearing the pain in the words that have just been spoken. My gaze lands on the row of portraits along the wall and I gasp in shock as I see Alan's has been replaced with the live feed from Thunderbird 5.  
  
"You might want to be careful with those buttons on the desk, Tin-Tin. You don't want to accidentally sit on one and call me, do you?" Alan's eyes are like ice, but I can faintly see the tears forming as he stares at me frigidly.  
  
"Alan. . .I. . ." I'm at a loss for forming a coherent sentence as I look at him, feeling my own sadness and guilt resurfacing.  
  
"Don't bother explaining."  
  
The words cut me like a knife. Sweet, innocent, compassionate Alan has turned bitter and expressionless on the screen, looking at Virgil and I in disgust.  
  
"Please let us clarify ourselves, Alan," Virgil says coolly, looking at his brother.  
  
"There's nothing to clarify, Virgil. Obviously things have been going on I've been unaware of and you've been using it to your advantage that I'm up here and not on the island." Alan blinks, trying to keep his heartless façade from crumbling.  
  
"You don't understand," I plead feebly.  
  
"I do understand, Tin-Tin. That's where you're wrong," Alan answers. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Dad would have my hide for using the frequency. Someone may be trying to call." His portrait swings back into place, leaving Virgil and I staring at the picture helplessly. 


	6. Book One: Candor

I slide off the desk, away from Virgil, and try to walk towards my room without visibly trembling. Every inch of my body has gone numb and I feel as if my anesthetized legs won't support me. Virgil calls my name but I ignore him as I shut the door and lie down on my bed.  
  
I stare at the ceiling, my face set like stone. I don't know whether to be grateful Alan found out the way he did or whether to feel broken because he's been brought in on this before we're ready to tell him. On one hand, it saves Virgil and I from the traumatizing discussion we'd have to have with him. On the other, none of us were prepared for what happened, including Alan.  
  
Wishing there was some way I could possibly feel his pain for him, my own heartache begins to get to me and I find tears slipping down my cheeks almost unnoticed. I have strong feelings for Virgil, and deep inside my heart, I think they've always been there somewhere. But Alan is Alan, and when I came to live with the Tracys', he was the first person to take me under his wing and show me around. He was always there for me - a shoulder to cry on, a sweater to lend when I was cold, or an ear to use when I needed to talk.  
  
Is it so wrong to love two men at one time?  
  
Yes, my mind answers. I've gotten myself in too deep and I wonder if my liable feelings will ever cease.  
  
My father raps lightly on my door and I realize I'd been drowning in my thoughts for longer than I knew. I press the button on the side of my bed and the door opens, revealing his worried features. As soon as he sees the tears on my face, he seems to become even more concerned and comes to sit on my bed.  
  
I shut the door, afraid someone will walk by and see me in this state. It's bad enough I'm obviously going to have to explain it to my father alone, but when I have to break the news to the rest of the Tracys, I'm going to need all the support Virgil can give me.  
  
"Tin-Tin, what is wrong?" He asks, taking my hand and looking at me with distress clearly written everywhere on his body.  
  
I take deep, calming breaths, trying to get my tears to stop their continuous flow. I meet his gaze steadily, though my eyes are blurred and unfocused. "I have something to tell you, Father."  
  
If it's possible, he's gotten even more troubled by those words. He waits with a patient exterior until I find the strength to go on, but I can tell that inside he's fretting over what exactly I'm about to say.  
  
"It's about Alan. . ." I begin nervously.  
  
"Is Mr. Alan all right?"  
  
I nod, wishing he would just let me speak without interjecting. I know he means well, but it would be so much easier for me if I could just pour out everything without being interrupted. "It's not just about Alan," I announce now, "It's about Virgil too."  
  
Now my father looks confused as well. I know what he's thinking: 'what could Virgil and Alan possibly have to do with what my daughter is trying to tell me?' Trust has always been a huge factor in a relationship for me, and my father brought me up by teaching me that honesty is the best policy. Now I've ruined both those things by breaking Alan's trust and also by not being honest with him from the start, from that very first kiss Virgil and I shared in the darkness of my room.  
  
I take more steadying gasps of air, knowing my father is going to be more than disappointed in me. I decide I should just come out with it and end his apprehension as well as the panicky fluttering of my heart. "Father. . .father, I'm in love with Virgil." There, I said it.  
  
If forged understanding was a drink, my father must have downed the entire Tracy pool worth of it before coming in to talk to me. I can see he's trying to be supportive and his actions express it, but his eyes are perplexed and disbelieving. How is it possible that his precious daughter could be in love with another man when she so plainly loves the one she's with?  
  
Just seeing the expression on his face makes me want to break down and cry again. He doesn't approve and it's devastatingly obvious. If my own father won't support me in this, then who will? What I feel for Virgil is so strong that I can't deny it, even if it means going against my father's view of what is right. I know it was wrong from the beginning, but I wasn't able to fight it. I still can't and probably never will.  
  
I guess Father's just going to have to accept it. And so will Alan and the rest of his family. I know it sounds coldhearted, but I can't help myself! Love is supposed to be a glorious, special thing, and with all this guilt I'm feeling, I can't even enjoy it!  
  
Father looks so lost that I reach over and hug him. "What about Mr. Alan?" He asks after a minute. I knew it was coming.  
  
"He already knows," I reply, rubbing his back reassuringly.  
  
"What did he have to say about it?"  
  
"Not a whole lot, actually. He's mad, father. Very, very mad."  
  
"I can understand that."  
  
"So can I." I sigh and lean back on the bed, resting against the pillows. He takes this as a cue to leave and I wish him a quiet farewell, knowing he has breakfast to prepare.  
  
+++  
  
I spend the rest of the day in my room, hiding from my problems. Virgil came by every hour to see how I was doing, but I locked my door. In all the years I've lived here, not once have I ever felt the need to lock anyone out of my room. Not Alan, not Scott or Gordon or anyone else. And now I'm chaining myself closed just like my door. I don't want to talk to anybody, especially not Virgil.  
  
I know if I see him I'll begin to cry again, and I don't know if I can handle these emotions any longer. I just have to let it run its course, and hopefully stay out of its path.  
  
It's nearly three in the morning when I get up and don my clothes, feeling restless. I put my feet into my slippers and open my door, making sure no one is around to see it unlocked and try to find out what is going on with me. I look down the hallway and, seeing no forms of life whatsoever, silently pad towards the lounge.  
  
I stare at Alan's portrait, desperately wanting to push the button on Mr. Tracy's desk and have one of those heartfelt conversations we've had so many times when he was up in the space station. We'd talk for hours on a different frequency, so his could stay open in case anyone needed help. After those chats, I always felt better, no matter what was happening in my life. Now, when I needed his words the most, he was the person who was pushing me the farthest away.  
  
And the worst part? I deserved it.  
  
+++++++++  
  
Hey, you guys are lucky! You got three parts of this story in one day! Wow, I must be on a roll. Look for more tomorrow :)  
  
Angelina 


	7. Book One: Caught

After a few more painful minutes of staring at Alan's picture and fighting the urge to hit the button that would bring the live feed up and jolt him out of bed, I sigh and shake my head. I have to calm myself - what's done is done, wishing to take it back won't do me any good. I turn away from Alan's eyes, watching me from the portrait, and wander back down the hall.  
  
I pass Virgil's room and falter. I feel dire for shutting him out like I did all day. I know I owe him an apology, and I want to do it now. It's so early; I know he'll be ready to bite my head off as soon as I wake him up. I ignore that thought and open his door, relieved to find he hasn't taken after me and locked it.  
  
I shut the door quietly behind me, not wanting to disturb anyone else, and make my way to his bed. Virgil's sprawled under the covers in what looks like an uncomfortable position, his form a lifeless shadow before my eyes. I survey the bed carefully, noticing there seems to be just enough room for me beside him. I grin in the dark and push the blankets back, slipping soundlessly onto the bed and pulling the blankets back over me.  
  
I'm surprised at how warm and comforting just being at his side is. I feel better about everything already and turn over so I'm facing him. He looks so childlike and innocent in the dimness. I reach out to touch him and then draw back, afraid I'll ruin the peaceful moment by waking him. In my mind I send him silent messages to shift and wrap his arm around me, the smile unable to leave my face.  
  
My messages seem to be a bit too strong, for instead of just moving, Virgil's eyes flutter open and he stares straight up for a second. I know he's listening intently, wondering what has caused him to come out of his sleep. I touch his hand, hidden under the blankets, and he turns to look at me.  
  
"Tin-Tin? What are you doing in here?" He whispers, sleep still clouding his eyes.  
  
"I wanted to say sorry for locking you out of my room," I answer, my head resting on his pillow and looking at him repentantly.  
  
He pulls me closer and kisses me lightly, letting me know I'm forgiven. I snuggle up against him in the blackness, enjoying his warm body against mine. I look over his shoulder at the clock, noticing it's four hours after midnight.  
  
Virgil wraps me in his blankets to keep out the cold air softly blowing the curtains on his window back and forth. He lowers his head and kisses my neck and shoulder, both exposed because of my nightgown. I murmur in approval as he continues and I can tell he's not upset I woke him up. All the sleep has left his body and I shudder, feeling shocks of electricity spark between us and chills run up and down my spine.  
  
All my fears, worries and guilt about Alan leave my system and are replaced by passion, love and energy. I get caught up and time freezes, slowing down until it stops entirely. For that night, Alan is forgotten. For that night, Virgil is the only man I know. And for that night, I am his.  
  
+++  
  
I wake up to the sunlight streaming through the window above Virgil's bed. There's a thumping noise at the door and I hurriedly enclose my body in the thin sheets I'm lying under. Virgil sits up as the door begins to open and we both gasp, afraid we're going to be caught by someone who doesn't already know our secret.  
  
"I'm not decent!" He yells at the intruder, slamming the button on his bedside table to shut and lock the door.  
  
"Aw, come on Virg! John and I are leaving for the mainland in ten minutes!" Gordon's voice complains.  
  
I stumble out of Virgil's bed, holding the blankets tightly around myself. Walking swiftly but quietly across the room, I enter his spacious closet and press myself against the back wall, out of sight.  
  
I can hear Virgil curse as he tries to pull on a pair of pants and gets his leg caught in his haste. Then the door opens and I see Gordon enter the room, talking to his brother about the girls he and John are going to pick up while they're off the island.  
  
"Can I borrow that burgundy sweater of yours?" Gordon asks. "It would go perfect with my trousers."  
  
"Sure." Virgil answers easily, wanting to get Gordon out of his bedroom as soon as possible.  
  
"Great." The sound of Gordon's footsteps coming towards the closet makes my breath catch in my throat as I try and hide myself behind one of Virgil's suits.  
  
"You can't go in there!" Virgil throws himself in front of the closet, trying to block Gordon's view.  
  
"How come?"  
  
"It's. . .It's a real mess," he lies.  
  
"You know I don't care." Gordon pushes past him and the closet is flooded with light, causing me to blink against the harsh illumination.  
  
I close my eyes, yearning to become invisible. I know my wish hasn't been granted because I hear Gordon's sharp intake of breath as he notices me standing in the corner.  
  
"Tin-Tin?" There's disbelief leaking from his words and his eyes are wide in surprise.  
  
"'Morning, Gordon," I say, sneaking a glance at Virgil who is standing behind him, shamefaced.  
  
Gordon looks from me to his brother repeatedly, his mouth dropping open as he does so. "What's going on here?"  
  
"I think you know," Virgil responds honestly, not even trying to come up with an excuse for my presence in his closet. Wearing a sheet, no less.  
  
"But. . .? When? Why?" Gordon's voice has taken on a new pitch as he stares at Virgil.  
  
"If you'll give us a chance, we'll explain it all to you," I answer for Virgil.  
  
Gordon turns back to me and I notice his gawking look taking in the blanket. Self-consciously, I tighten my grip on it, reddening under his gaze. He snaps his head up, as if suddenly remembering something.  
  
"It'll have to wait. I told John I'd meet him at the dock as soon as I got a sweater." Gordon locates it and pulls it hurriedly off its hangar before drawing it over his t-shirt. "When I get home, I want every single detail," he adds.  
  
We nod agreeably as he leaves, seeming still in shock over catching Virgil and I together. I look at Virgil after Gordon has disappeared, both of us wondering if he'll tell John while they're on their trip.  
  
"Well, that was a bit embarrassing, wasn't it?" Virgil asks after a minute, seeing the horrified look on my face.  
  
"Congratulations, you win the understatement of the year award," I say sarcastically.  
  
Virgil glances at his watch, which is sitting on a shelf in his closet. "You know, Gordon and John will be gone for hours and Scott's all the way at the end of the hall." His eyes sparkle mischievously and I can't help but feel like giggling.  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
He closes the large space between us in three strides and ducks his head to give me a kiss. "What can we possibly do until people begin to miss us?"  
  
"Hmm. . ." I pretend to ponder his question before breaking out in a smile and letting him lead me back to his bed. 


	8. Book One: Memories

I hear him before I see him, that loud voice yelling my name as he enters the house. I dart out my room as he walks down the hall and grab him, pulling him inside and putting my hand over his mouth.  
  
"Are you trying to get your father to become suspicious?" I ask John, my fingers holding his lips shut.  
  
"Suspicious?" He repeats, though it sounds more than slightly muffled because of my hand.  
  
"I'll let you go if you promise not to do anything that will get him on my case." I search his eyes until he nods, hoping he won't break this vow.  
  
John rubs his jaw and looks at me, one eyebrow raised. "Are you nuts?"  
  
I smile at him and turn, picking my brush up off my nightstand and running it through my hair absently before closing the door. "Maybe." I replace the brush and sit on my bed, looking at him squarely. "I take it Gordon told you what he saw this morning."  
  
"No," John says, confusion apparent on his pale features. "What did he see?"  
  
Great job, Tin-Tin. Since you opened your big mouth, you now have to tell John that you were in Virgil's closet wearing a sheet because you couldn't get out of his bed quick enough to change before Gordon barged in. I sigh, realizing Gordon had left that part out because he'd been just as embarrassed as we had.  
  
"Nothing. I just mean. . .nothing," I trail off. "But he told you, didn't he?"  
  
"About you and Virgil? Yeah, he did. There's a lot of time to fill between here and the mainland," John answers.  
  
"I suppose you'd better go get him and Virgil so we don't have to repeat ourselves."  
  
"What about Scott? Shouldn't he know this too?" The blond man covers his mouth as he coughs and I notice that although he's getting better, his symptoms from his cold are still hanging around.  
  
"He does."  
  
"He knows? Why didn't he tell us?"  
  
"He doesn't approve," I admit, looking away in ignominy.  
  
"Oh, is that so?" John rolls his eyes. "I wonder why? Could it be that someone who lives in our house, with our family, is going behind Alan's back with our own brother? I can see why he isn't fond of the idea."  
  
"Alan knows, too," I add quietly.  
  
"Good Lord, am I always the last person to find out these things?" John groans and leaves the room, presumably to bring Virgil and Gordon to me so we can discuss everything that's been happening.  
  
A few moments later, he returns with two of his siblings in tow. Virgil takes a seat on the bed and slips his hand in mine supportively and we look at each other before focusing on Gordon and John, both standing expectantly across from us.  
  
It doesn't take too long to tell our story, and I feel so much better getting it off my chest. Now, the only people left to tell are Grandma, who will be devastated, as Alan seems to be her favourite grandchild, and Mr. Tracy himself. Just the thought of telling the commanding, serious man that I've been dishonest to his youngest son makes me feel sick to my stomach.  
  
+++  
  
My late night walks seem to have become a tradition as I pull on my robe and slippers. I wander all over the house to ease my restlessness before returning to my room. I debate whether to go to Virgil's and let him comfort me again, but decide against it. We were lucky there was no need for a rescue operation that day, as both he and I felt as if we were drugged by the lack of rest.  
  
On my way to my quarters, I pass the door to Thunderbird Three's hangar. The sofa in the lounge are one way in, the other is a door concealed at one end of the house. It allows us to perform repairs without having to ride on that couch and also to enter the hangar without drawing attention from any visitors.  
  
I force the urge to go marvel at the enormous crimson craft down and close my bedroom door behind me. Unknowing to my tired mind, the corner of my brain not covered in cobwebs of sleep is forming a plan.  
  
I find my limbs disobeying my order to tuck themselves back into bed and instead find myself pulling a small suitcase out of the top of my closet. I don't know what I'm doing, but my head seems to. I pack two sets of clean clothes, my toothbrush and comb, and anything else I'd need for a short trip.  
  
Before I know what's happening, I'm holding the bag in one hand and staring at the door to Thunderbird Three's hiding spot. I've left the pajamas, slippers and robe behind and traded them in for a t-shirt and jeans, soft boots and the sweater Alan gave me last year for Christmas.  
  
I push the door open and make sure it's shut securely before turning to face the craft. The vast ship stands proudly in it's launching position, nose pointed at the sky. I take a deep breath and start determinedly for the entrance to the main cockpit, one I've been through a million times during routine checks.  
  
I drop my bag on the floor and make sure it's firmly wedged in the corner. I don't want it going anywhere and messing up my concentration. The familiar controls glint under the overhead light and I feel my heart beginning to beat faster.  
  
This is a piece of cake, I tell myself. Alan taught you how to fly this thing and you've been over everything so many times. It's easy, like breathing. There's nothing to it.  
  
Even my encouraging words aren't enough to stop the nervous butterflies in my abdomen as I stare at the buttons, screens and levers that decorate the control panel. I sit down in the chair in front of it, the lessons Alan had given me flooding back as I try to calm down.  
  
I run over the pre-liftoff procedure, checking to make sure everything is in perfect condition as silently as I can. I've watched Alan, or even John on occasion, do it over and over again. I settle in the chair once more, realizing what I'm about to do.  
  
I'm about to fly the giant scarlet spaceship on my own to Thunderbird Five, only to encounter a man who doesn't want to see me.  
  
Am I insane?  
  
I glance over my shoulder, once more steadying myself before beginning to put my plan in action. I see the elevator that shuffles the crew between floors, the passenger seats and the windows. It brings back fond memories of a time when Scott was on vacation and Alan was scheduled to relieve John in the space station, taking me with him instead of his dark-haired brother.  
  
We had sat side by side during liftoff, and then Alan had stood up, stretched and taught me everything about the ship. I can almost hear his voice in my ear now as he told me what this button does and why I shouldn't push the red one and how, if I pull this lever, we'll both be sucked into space. I recall the moment he'd shown me my favourite switch on the entire board, the one marked autopilot.  
  
Alan had pushed it, set the course for Thunderbird Five and pulled me from my seat. I can feel my cheeks reddening involuntarily as I stare off into nothing, remembering what had happened after that. We'd left the craft running on it's own and had had some real fun.  
  
A voice pulls me from my reminiscing and I jump from the chair, staring at the person who has caught me.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" 


	9. Book One: Arrival

I stare hard at the person who has invaded my private thoughts and put my hands firmly on my hips. "I'm going to visit Alan. To straighten everything out."  
  
"That's what you think," John answers, just as sternly. "Did you honestly think you'd get away with this?"  
  
"It would have been possible had you not come along," I retort, sitting back down at the chair and pressing the button to open the hatch above Thunderbird Three, still wanting to carry out my plan.  
  
"Now what do you think you're doing?"  
  
"The same thing I was before you interrupted me."  
  
"No way, Tin-Tin. Come on, go and get a good sleep. You aren't thinking clearly." John rakes a hand back through his blond hair, obviously wanting to go back to his own room to do what he'd just instructed me to.  
  
I reply to his words with a firm no, and he looks at me as if I'd just sprouted another head.  
  
"Pardon me?"  
  
"I said, 'No'. I'm not going anywhere." I press a few more buttons, making sure everything is ready for liftoff. Now I just need John to get off my back. "Either you come with me, or you forget you saw me and play innocent when your father wakes up and begins barking orders as soon as he hears the engines." I look at him, knowing he's surprised I'm disobeying him. "What'll it be, John?"  
  
"Why are women always so persuasive?" He asks absently, looking around the ship.  
  
"You'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you?" I tease, trying to lighten the mood. "So, are you coming or staying?"  
  
He sighs and I can read the indecision on his face like a book. "I'm not going to let you risk your life, no matter how terrible Father tortures me after he finds out," John says finally. "I'm coming with you."  
  
Now it's my turn to be shocked. John, obedient, reliable John, is about to defy his father for my sake? A small smile pulls at my lips and I turn back to the control panel. "Get dressed, boy, or else you'll be visiting space in your boxer shorts."  
  
John glances down and begins to blush before raising his head again. "I don't want to grab some actual clothes in case you decide to leave me behind. Don't start the engines yet, let me grab my uniform and change first." He picks up the blue outfit that has appeared at his side, thanks to a button I've pushed, and grabs the pants and shirt. "Don't start the engines," he repeats.  
  
"All right, all right." I put one hand up in surrender as I study the gauge showing the amount of gas left in the tanks. It should be just enough to get Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five and back without trouble.  
  
John takes one last look at me before shaking his head and taking the elevator to one of the lower levels to change. When he comes back up, dressed in blue without his lilac sash, he sits down next to me. This is my signal to gun the engines and I can see how troubled he is as he looks down at the controls.  
  
"John," I say, trying to sound reassuring, "I would have been fine on my own. But now that you're here, and you know how to drive this thing better than I do, there won't be any problems."  
  
"I'm not worried about Thunderbird Three. I'm worried about how both Father and Alan are going to kill me. Will they dump me in the pool and tie me beneath the surface or launch me into space without a spacesuit?" He wonders sarcastically. "Tin-Tin, you're asking for trouble. Not only from the people on the island, but also from Alan. I hate to say it, but I think you're the last person he wants to see right now."  
  
"I know," I acknowledge sadly. "But I have to see him, John. I have to make him see how much this is hurting me. I have to try and make him understand." Thunderbird Three begins to tremble from the power of its engines. "I feel so terrible. What happened with Virgil began as a mistake but became much more than that, and now I have to choose between Alan and him and it's just. . .so difficult." I feel tears begin to form behind my eyes and blink them away before turning to look at John. "What am I going to do?"  
  
He glances my way sympathetically. "I guess going to set things straight with Alan is a good idea, though I'd better hope I get Thunderbird Three away from the station before he explodes." John's words are sardonically encouraging, making me feel a bit better. "But I don't know what you're going to do about the whole situation. That's not up to me. You have to listen to your heart Tin-Tin. You're going to disappoint one, no matter what you do."  
  
"Thanks, John."  
  
"You're welcome. Now, we'd best be going before Father hears us." He gestures at the controls.  
  
I take a deep breath. "I can do this, I can do this. . ." I'm sure John thinks I'm crazy, but the pep talk isn't for him. I smile wryly. "Thunderbirds are go!"  
  
John's chuckle is drowned out by the sound of the motors as Thunderbird Three propels itself into the sky.  
  
+++  
  
It's a good long time before we even catch sight of Thunderbird Five. Just seeing it's metallic form mingling with the stars is enough to cause my blood to run cold. I slow the craft down, as if I were planning to dock but am really trying to force my thoughts to subside.  
  
On a split second decision, I throw Thunderbird Three in reverse and turn the craft around. "I can't do this," I say in answer to John's baffled look.  
  
"Tin-Tin, you've come this far. You either face Alan or one very, very angry father of mine."  
  
After I consider those options, I find myself heading for the space station again. "I think I'd rather be with Alan."  
  
"You're right, you would. But I'm going to head back and get shouted at, so make sure you remember one thing: you owe me one, Tin-Tin Kyrano, and I won't let you forget it," John answers jokingly.  
  
"Don't worry, John. I'll make it up to you somehow." I smile at him and press one hand to my chest, feeling my heart start racing ten times faster than before. My face falls, and so does my spirit. "He's going to be so mad. . ."  
  
"I think he already is. If anyone can make him change his mind, it's you. You know that as well as I do. You just have to try." I knew John could see me wavering in apprehension so he takes control of the vessel and before I can even blink it seems, we're attached to Thunderbird Five. "Ready to go?"  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be." I surprise myself by leaning over and hugging him tightly. "Thank you, John. I'm glad you came with me."  
  
He too seems taken aback by my sudden show of affection but embraces me in return. "No problem, Tin-Tin. Now, go in there and show him what he's missing." John smiles at me as we pull apart.  
  
I stand, picking up my bag. "I'll call you as soon as I need a lift home, all right?"  
  
"You bet." He opens the airlock and I step inside. From in there, I can hear his voice over the intercom. "Tell me when."  
  
John knows me too well. He knows I'm not prepared so I take a second and lean against the wall to steady myself. Then I square my shoulders and look determinedly at the door, which will open into the station's airlock. I don't require a space suit to go from craft to craft. "All right, go ahead." 


	10. Book One: Obscurity

Here's another chapter! Sorry it took so long. Thanks to Sam for the extra push I needed to settle down and write a bit more. Also, for the words that got my mind turning about the airlock (you'll find out when you read what I'm talking about). Review please, and thanks so much to everyone who has already!  
  
********  
  
The door slides open and I force my legs to walk through it, though other parts of my body are screaming at them to stop. The little suitcase I hold so tightly in my hands begins to slip from my grasp as sweat runs down my forehead into my eyes. You can't enter Thunderbird 5 undetected, and the click of Thunderbird 3 docking is far from inaudible. I am sure Alan knew someone was here.  
  
I am also sure he would be surprised when he saw it was me.  
  
I press the button to open the door to the main control room and frown when I find it stuck. No matter how hard I push, the button will not accept my finger and my command to let me inside. I hear Thunderbird 3 slip away and the clamps holding it to the space station lock back into place before I turn around and look back down the hall.  
  
That's when I notice the cameras. Of course! Alan was keeping me away by locking me in the airlock. It was a childish game he and John had played frequently in the early years of International Rescue, to see who could stay in there the longest without complaint. Once their father had caught onto their friendly game, he'd put an end to it and it had been forgotten, almost as if it failed to exist at all.  
  
The cameras caught every move of anyone in the airlock, so Alan could be sure it was one of his brothers before opening the door. That was exactly what he was doing now - watching me, maybe from the control room itself, maybe from the monitor in his quarters.  
  
"Alan, let me in," I say quietly. I know the sensitive speakers will pick up my voice.  
  
"Why are you here, Tin-Tin?" His words are a shock to the silence of the airlock and I nearly jump as they come out of the intercom beside the door.  
  
"I want to talk to you."  
  
"So talk." Alan sounds drained and brusque, as if he's been awake for days.  
  
"Let me in," I repeat, looking at one of the cameras pleadingly. "I'm not going to have a conversation with a camera and a speaker."  
  
The door opens behind me without another word and I cross the threshold into Thunderbird 5. I put my bag down just inside and turn to face the front panel, seeing a familiar tangle of blond hair barely visible over the top of the large chair. It spins around and I stare at Alan, dressed simply in jeans and one of his faded Colorado University t-shirts. There are visible shadows under his eyes and even those have lost their playful spark.  
  
"Talk," Alan commands, reminding me for a moment of his father. The look in his gaze is cold and unbreakable and I feel as if I am doomed to become a block of ice under it.  
  
I take a few steps towards him on numb legs. I haven't come prepared; I didn't know how he was going to react to my presence. "I'm sorry, Alan," I find myself stating weakly.  
  
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Tin-Tin." He stands up and breezes past me. I'm positive I can feel the frost in his words. I watch as he taps various keys on the control panel, my awe at how it has become so easy for him after so many years resurfacing as it always did when I see one of the Tracy's working one of the crafts effortlessly.  
  
I snap out of my daze and try to force the weariness from my limbs as I stand next to him and peer at his hands running mechanically over the keys on the panel. It's so automatic to him as he manually traces signals that he no longer has to look at his fingers.  
  
"What can I say to you to make you understand how terrible I feel?" I ask, knowing I'm clutching at straws. Alan, though usually easy to forgive, can hold a firm grudge if the crime towards him is worthy of the energy.  
  
"Nothing." He finishes his scanning and sets the computer up to do it so he doesn't have to bother for the rest of the night. Alan turns to me and I can see the darkness in his eyes, knowing that image will haunt me for years to come. I've never seen him this way before. "Have you ever woken up at the crack of dawn, rolled out of bed on a lonely satellite and walked into the main room in your pajamas to find the live feed from your home coming through as clear as day? And do you know what I saw on the screen, Tin-Tin? My girlfriend, the person I love more than she'll ever know, passionately kissing my brother on my father's desk." His voice cracks with emotion and I have to resist the urge to reach out and wrap my arms around him. He composes himself quickly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Do you have any idea what that does to a person?"  
  
Alan knows full well I do not, as I had never really had a boyfriend before him. I had been much too busy trying to look after both my father and myself, as well as trying to manage every other aspect of life before meeting Mr. Tracy and moving with him to the island. I shake my head slowly, wishing he would explode and yell. At least then I would have something to go on. To see him so submissive and vulnerable breaks what remains of my heart in two. Where is the Alan I know, and what has happened to him?  
  
"There is a cot in the big closet by John's room. You can unfold that and sleep in here, if you want. Or you can use his bed, though he gets fussy about people in his room." Alan shuts off the main light in the foremost section of the satellite, throwing it into near-blackness. The only light now is the faint glow from the screens and buttons decorating the panels, casting eerie fire over his blond hair.  
  
I nod vaguely, knowing our discussion is over for the night. I'll let him rest, hopefully clearing his mind in the process. Maybe then he'll listen to what I have to say. 


	11. Book One: Tears

I have followed Alan's advice and now lie in the large main area of the satellite on my back, tucked under a pile of blankets I managed to scrounge from around the station. I stare at the harsh metal ceiling of Thunderbird Five, unable to sleep or even close my eyes. My guess is that it's about four in the morning, though I don't feel like leaving the temperate security of my little cot to go see.  
  
I didn't expect Alan's reaction. I was waiting for him to get mad and yell at me, or to at least give me the cold shoulder. But he didn't. Instead he surprised me by speaking almost calmly and appearing defenseless and weak in the unsympathetic lighting of the craft. This is an Alan I have never laid eyes on before, and it scares me. He's withdrawn, something I have scarcely seen him as before.  
  
Restless, I get up and swing my legs over the side of the cot. The tinny floor is bitter beneath my bare feet as I stand up and wrap one of the blankets around my shoulders for warmth. I don't know what I plan to do but know I can't stay in that bed for another minute. I have too much energy to sleep.  
  
As I walk past Alan's room on my way to the kitchen, hoping for an early morning snack, I pause. The sight is so indignant and forlorn that I have no choice but to stop. Alan hasn't noticed me yet and I watch him silently, feeling tears form behind my tired eyes at the heartbreaking scene.  
  
He has his back to me, wrinkled t-shirt hanging loosely off his frame as he sits on the far end of the bed. The window in front of him is bare, the curtains pushed back to one side, and starlight streams through it. The light is intense and hostile, throwing most of the room into dark shadow and bathing Alan in pale brilliance. The glow dances over him as they shine, illuminating his melancholy eyes and setting his hair alight.  
  
He sits unmoving, as if frozen in a trance created by the stars. I too remain motionless, wondering if this picture I'm seeing is genuine or whether I'm dreaming. It's almost too perfect, too still, like an image off a post card or a painting Virgil has masterfully created. There's so much emotion locked between the walls of Thunderbird Five, especially in this single room. I'm besieged by the look of anguish on his sallow features.  
  
I step into the room, hugging the blanket close around my shoulders. "Alan?" My whispered words are a shock to the muted air around us, and I feel as though I've shouted his name rather than barely breathing it.  
  
He turns towards me, his muscles tensing visibly. "Why aren't you sleeping?"  
  
"I could ask you the same question."  
  
Alan scowls slightly and looks back out at the stars as if he were speaking to them and not me. "I haven't slept for three days, Tin-Tin. I don't think I'm about to start now."  
  
That explains why he looks so tired. "Three days, Alan?" I repeat. "Is that possible?"  
  
"Apparently," he replies sardonically, eyes trained on the stars outside the window.  
  
I sit down on his bed beside him, unsolicited but unable to prevent myself from doing so. Subconsciously I wrap the blanket around my arms and watch it flow down to my legs as I move it to accommodate me. "Is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
"Go back to Earth and leave me alone."  
  
"I can't do that, Alan."  
  
"Why the hell not?" His voice is sharp, but has a listless lining that I don't fail to hear.  
  
"I can't just leave you here, in this state." I answer quietly. "What happened with Virgil was an accident, but it progressed beyond my control."  
  
"Beyond your control?" Alan looks at me, his eyes dark and filled with quiet rage. "That's impossible, Tin-Tin."  
  
"No, it's not. I've had feelings for Virgil for a long time now," I say honestly. I know it's not something Alan will want to hear, but I also know I have to come clean - to tell him only the truth. "I didn't plan for them to ever surface."  
  
"So our entire relationship has been a scam. Is that what you're telling me?"  
  
"No, Alan, that's not what I'm trying to say. I loved you every minute we were together. I still do."  
  
"If you loved me so much, you would never have gone behind my back with my own brother." He runs a trembling hand through his hair, causing it to stick up arbitrarily. My fingers itch to settle the flaxen strands but I grasp the blanket and dig my nails into it, curbing the need.  
  
I feel unwanted tears slide down my face but make no motion to wipe them away. I know what I've done is wrong, but having Alan so cold towards me is distressing. I pray I could turn back time and thwart everything that happened, but then banish the implausible thought. "I said I was sorry."  
  
Alan turns to look at me, obviously sensing the thickness in my voice caused by trying to restrain my tears. "Don't cry, Tin-Tin," he whispers. He hates seeing people cry, even if they've hurt him like I have.  
  
"I can't help it." I sniff slightly, wishing the tears would go away. They make me feel like even more of a pathetic idiot than I already do.  
  
He timidly puts his arms around me, falling back into the routine we've followed for so many years. I've taken on more than I can handle, and the emotions are eating away at me. I'm afraid that one day, maybe soon, they'll consume every part of me, and I'll be no more than a vacillating mess of a person. I'm coming very close to that now. I rest in his embrace, feeling something wet dripping onto my shoulder as I try to stop the tears.  
  
That's when I realize he's crying too. I hold him tighter, absently draping the blanket over him and no longer ashamed of my tears. Being in his arms is so natural to me; I almost forget why I'm weeping in the first place.  
  
There, in the tiny bedroom of Thunderbird Five, we cry together. For our shattered relationship, our broken hearts, and the fact that nothing will ever be the same again.  
  
++++++++  
  
That was the hardest chapter I've written so far. Much thanks to my awesome friend, Mette, for her help and ideas throughout the chapter - even though she had no idea who Virgil, Alan or Tin-Tin were. :)  
  
Angel 


	12. Book One: Maturity

I don't realize until the next morning that I had fallen asleep in Alan's protective arms. It is accustomed to me that I just let myself nod off without a second thought. When my eyes open and I find my eyelashes batting against the material of his worn t-shirt, I sit bolt upright, surprising him.  
  
Alan pulls away from me and that's when I realize something else - he didn't sleep when I did. I can see the drowsiness creating ominous shadows under his eyes and the exhaustion shining unmistakably as he looks down at the sheets of his bed. I reach up and turn him to me, concern for him veiling every inch of my mind.  
  
"Alan, I didn't mean to fall asleep like I did. You should have woken me," I say quietly, searching his expression and finding nothing but fatigue.  
  
He pulls back, as if fearful of my touch, and the look on his ashen features stings like a million needles to my heart. He simply shakes his head and lowers his gaze back to the rumpled blanket that had slipped off my shoulders sometime during the night. Without a word, he picks it up and wraps it around me, not meeting my eyes.  
  
"Don't push me away," I murmur, once again forcing him to look up by placing a finger under his chin and raising it.  
  
"So what am I supposed to do?" He counters, surprising me at the sudden reply. "Hug you, kiss you and plead for you to be mine?" His tone darkens with each word, matching the look on his face as he holds my eyes with his own valiantly.  
  
I shake my head slowly and force myself to focus on something other than his unbreakable stare. "Living on the island with you is going to be tough," I cogitate aloud, more to myself than to him.  
  
"Then we'd better resolve this, and soon," Alan answers tenaciously. His voice lowers to a soft whisper. "I don't want things to ever be awkward between us, Tin-Tin."  
  
I can scarcely believe he's saying these things. He's being so. . .mature about the whole situation. I reach over timorously and take his hand, staggered at how cold it feels in mine. I squeeze it tenderly as I speak. "Then we won't let them, Alan."  
  
He sighs and takes his hand back, though it's not an aloof gesture. I stand up, pulling the blanket around my shoulders and making my way out of the bedroom to the core of Thunderbird Five. I hit the button on the side of one of the screens that will immediately put me through to Tracy Island and huddle under the warm coverlet as I wait for the monitor to come to life.  
  
The first face I see is Virgil's and I smile at the look of emancipation he displays. "Tin-Tin! Are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," I reply, my eyes sparkling merely at the sight of him.  
  
"John told us everything when he came back. Boy, was Father angry! I'm sure glad I'm not him right now. I think he finally let him go to bed just before the sun," Virgil says as he sits down on the corner of his father's desk. "I can't believe you did that."  
  
"Did what?"  
  
"Hijacked Thunderbird Three!"  
  
"I didn't hijack it, Virgil. I mean, I did in a way, but John was with me."  
  
He shakes his head. "You're lucky he caught you when he did, or else there would be even more trouble than there already is."  
  
"Is your father angry with me?"  
  
"Positively livid," Virgil responds with a grin.  
  
I bite my lip worriedly. "I didn't mean to upset him."  
  
"We know that. It'll take some time to cool him down, but since you're not here for him to blow up at, he should be fine by the time you return." He glances behind me, evidently looking for his brother. "How are things going with Alan?"  
  
"I think we've come to a bit of a mutual understanding. For now, anyway."  
  
"She slugged him!" Someone yells from the other side of the picture. I can't see him, but I know right away who it is.  
  
"Shut up, Gordon. She did not." Virgil looks over his shoulder for a minute and then back at me, dropping his voice. "You didn't, right?"  
  
I almost laugh out loud. "No, I didn't."  
  
"I want to see the bruise!" Gordon appears in my line of vision and positions himself beside Virgil.  
  
"There isn't a bruise to see, Gordon." Alan comes into the main room and stands a few feet away from me. "She didn't hit me."  
  
His two siblings take him in silently, seeing his vague expression, dull eyes and enervated stance. Virgil is the first to speak, obviously feeling terrible about everything that has happened. "I'm glad she didn't, Alan." He smiles slightly. "It would have screwed up that pretty-boy look you have going on," Virgil says teasingly.  
  
"Well," Alan grits his teeth, "I'm going to need it more than ever now, since I'm single again." He glares at Virgil and I can nearly feel the resentment beginning to come to the surface again.  
  
Virgil shrinks back visibly, stunned at his younger brother's sudden change in behavior. "When you return to the island, we'll talk about everything, okay?"  
  
He interrupts Virgil by shaking his head. "No. I don't want to talk to you about anything, Virgil. What's done is done."  
  
"I'm glad you seem to be putting it behind you, Alan, but I don't want you to hate me."  
  
"I do not hate you. Granted, I did for a brief moment a little bit ago," Alan confesses, "But I no longer do."  
  
"That's good to hear."  
  
"A part of me wants to kill you, though."  
  
Virgil raises an eyebrow and I find it just about comical. "Glad you're in the space station, then." He drops his voice, speaking only to Gordon, though I can hear his soft words through the speakers. "I wouldn't want him anywhere near me right now."  
  
"I heard that, Virgil. Just wait until John relieves me. You'd better run for your life." Alan is kidding now and I'm thankful to see his usual character beginning to re-emerge.  
  
"I'm going to go look for breakfast. I'm curious to see the junk you boys keep up here," I say to Alan. "I'll set something out for you. Come around when you're hungry." I'm sure he would like a word with his brothers without my presence hanging over his head.  
  
"Thank you, Tin-Tin."  
  
It's when he reaches over and touches my arm reassuringly that I begin to feel my spirits lift. It's casual contact, but it takes the needles that had earlier protruded from my heart away, leaving a sense of calmness I haven't felt in days. I nod my goodbye to Virgil and Gordon and leave the area, feeling as if the gravity controls in the space station have miraculously been turned off.  
  
+++++++  
  
Holy smokes, Alan being mature? I know there's people out there who despise the brat, but hey, I wanted to try and make him a bit more adult, for my fic at least. Review review review!  
  
Angelina 


	13. Book One: Delusion

Of course this isn't the end, guys! Trust me, I'll let you know when the end is near. I still have quite a few little tricks up my sleeve. *wink* And thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews. You guys rock!  
  
Angelina  
  
++++++++++  
  
Whoever designed the cupboards in Thunderbird Five was obviously much taller than me. I presently stand on the very tips of my toes, trying to find a box of cereal that hasn't been left open and gone stale. The radio is blaring my favourite song in the background and I hum along as I leaf through the contents of the various shelves in the kitchen.  
  
The Tracy brothers love teasing me about jumping from song to song so fast, particularly when Dangerous Game was popular and they joked about my supposed crush on Cass Carnaby. Little did they know, I was too keen on their youngest sibling to even think of another man. Of course, once that came to light, we were both the victims of their relentless wits.  
  
Over the drone of the song, I do not hear Alan enter the kitchen. It is only when he pulls me away from the cupboards, his hands sliding around my waist, that I know he's in the room. Before I can even breathe or try to get out of his hold, I'm up against the counter and his lips are on mine.  
  
And I explode.  
  
"Alan!" I cry, pushing him roughly away. "What are you doing?" I cross my arms over my chest and looked at him with wide eyes.  
  
Of all the things I didn't expect to see on his face, the confusion he displays is at the top of the list. My expression softens as I realize we hadn't reached as much of an understanding as I'd thought. He tilts his head to the side, trying to puzzle everything out. "I was kissing you. Like I always do before breakfast in the morning."  
  
"Oh, Alan," I murmur quietly, "I thought we talked about this."  
  
"We did, Tin-Tin." He looks at me closely, his eyes seeming to drain of emotion even more as the seconds pass. "Are you telling me we're over?"  
  
"Did you not understand that before?" I snap, immediately diminishing the angry tone before I continue. "You told Virgil you were single again, and in your room. . .I thought we were on the same page."  
  
"You didn't squirm when I hugged you. You fell asleep. People only sleep when they feel comfortable and safe. I took that as a sign that you still loved me." Alan glances at me, his look slightly smug. "I bet you wouldn't do the same with Virgil."  
  
"I have!" I blurt out before I can stop myself. I feel my ears burn as his face hardens beneath the shadows of exhaustion.  
  
"I can't believe you, Tin-Tin. How could you do such a thing to me?"  
  
"What about your comment to your brother?" I brush off his previous statement, though his words cut me like a knife. How could I do such a thing to the man I loved? I couldn't even answer the question myself.  
  
"I told Virgil I was single again so you could let him down easy, face to face, when you went back to the island," Alan tells me, his expression losing all traces of spirit.  
  
I swallow hard. Can't he see how hard he's making this for me? "I'm with Virgil now." I pause for a moment, willing myself not to break down into tears again. The pain etched on his features is almost too great to bear. "I'm sorry."  
  
His eyes come to life, gleaming like coals under a dying fire. "I thought I meant more to you than that. I thought history was important to you. Think of everything we've been through. Are you telling me Virgil means so much to you that you can drop me as if I don't matter?"  
  
"You do matter, Alan!" I exclaim. "But Virgil does too."  
  
"And you're willing to sacrifice everything we've shared for him?"  
  
I try to keep my trembling lips steady as I lower my gaze to the floor and nod.  
  
"Get out," he growls.  
  
My head snaps up and I look at him. I've never heard him speak like this before, and his snarl is terrifying. His eyes glint dangerously as he watches me, standing as if ready for a fight. I push myself against the counter, holding the ledge so firmly my knuckles go white.  
  
"What are you still doing here? I said, get out!" Alan barks. For a split second, it's as if he's been possessed by something wicked, something that has taken over his body and turned his voice into the bloodcurdling rumble of a wolf.  
  
"I can't, Alan."  
  
"Call John and tell him I want you gone by lunchtime." He turns on his heel and leaves the kitchen.  
  
+++  
  
I fold up the cot and carry it to the closet, stumbling under its weight and nearly slamming myself repeatedly into the walls of the slender hallway. Alan is in his room and I know he can hear me struggling, but makes no move to help. Maybe it's for the best - I am holding a huge cot with metal legs, after all, and I wouldn't want to be blamed if one of those legs happened to thump him in the stomach.  
  
I finish stuffing the thing in the closet and return to the main room. I take up Alan's position in the chair facing the control panel and look intently out the window at the stars beyond. Every hour is night in the space station, and even when you roll out of bed, there are stars surrounding you. I stare at them longingly, wishing my problems were as simple as whether I should shine bright or dull in the dark blanket covering the universe.  
  
The faint sounds of the clamps connecting Thunderbird Three to the space station echo through the satellite and I shiver in relief. Though my problem is not solved, I am able to return to Earth and leave Alan and his anger behind. I don't want to be on the receiving end of acts caused by that fuming side of him any longer.  
  
I glance up as John enters the space station and smile jadedly. His crisp uniform glows under the intense lights as the airlock shuts behind him and he steps forward.  
  
"Where's Alan?" He asks.  
  
"In his room," I reply, standing up and hooking my tiny bag over my shoulder. "Are you ready to go?"  
  
He looks at me sympathetically. "I know you're in a hurry, Tin-Tin. I'll meet you in the ship."  
  
I nod and leave him alone in the focal room of Thunderbird Five, retreating out into the garnet craft locked securely in place on the other side of the airlock. I don't even peek over my shoulder as I close the door and settle back in the passenger seat, my suitcase held tightly on my lap.  
  
"Hi, Tin-Tin."  
  
The voice startles me and I look around until my eyes fall on Scott, huddled over the control panel. I'm not quite sure what he's doing, but it looks as though he has his hand on the lever to direct the clamps.  
  
To be honest, I'm surprised he's even talking to me. "Hello, Scott."  
  
The conversation that never began ends there and I let out a deep sigh. The door of the cockpit opens, interrupting my rapidly drifting thoughts. I blink in disbelief, seeing two blond figures fighting against each other for who is going through the door.  
  
Alan wrestles against John as his older brother forces him into the ship and the door is instantly closed, thanks to Scott at the control panel. Alan turns and looks at him, shocked and filled with rage all at the same time. Before he can speak, the screen in front of me clicks on and I find myself looking at John.  
  
"You have two choices, Alan," He says in a no-nonsense manner. "You either return to base without protest or let Scott take the controls. The doors are locked, and the clamps are loosening as we speak. You cannot get out, so sit down and shut up."  
  
I almost applaud John's sudden change of attitude. He has taken control and he doesn't plan on giving it up any time soon. Alan has no other option but to listen to him. He sits down, lips pursed in irritation, and glares at his brother.  
  
"You are going to sort this entire thing out with Virgil, and with Tin-Tin, and I am going to take your place two weeks early." It is not a declaration to be argued with and I watch in awe as John continues. "Any questions?"  
  
Alan shakes his head and John nods to Scott. "Clamps retracted, airlock closed. You are clear for departure." He says routinely, checking the panel beneath the screen.  
  
Scott's fingers fly over the controls and Thunderbird Three begins to shudder its way out of the docking bay. 


	14. Book One: Consequences

By the time Thunderbird Three begins it's decent into it's hiding spot under the roundhouse, Alan has worn himself out screaming at Scott and at John via the screen at the front of the ship. I sat huddled in a corner for the entire trip, my eyes glued to his display of anger. Now hoarse from the yelling match he'd had against himself, since neither Scott nor John had shown any sympathy for him, Alan bolts out of the craft as soon as the door opens.  
  
Scott makes a move to go after him but I rest a hand on his arm and shake my head. "Give him time," I murmur.  
  
He nods reluctantly and goes through the routine of checking to make sure Thunderbird Three is ready for the next time it needs to be launched. I watch silently before retreating to my own room and unpacking my suitcase.  
  
It's not long until there is a knock at my door. Interested as to see who it is, but not wishing to see a fuming Mr. Tracy on the other side, I open it and peer out.  
  
Virgil stands on the other side, smiling as if nothing has happened. I let out a breath of relief and invite him in, returning to my task of putting my clothes back into their drawers.  
  
"So how did Scott and John's plan work out?" He asks, sitting on my bed and watching me move about the room.  
  
"You knew about it?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Well, they succeeded, but our ears got quite a bit of a bashing on the way home." I shake my head sadly. "I thought we had put an end to this, but I was wrong."  
  
"I thought we had too." He grabs me as I walk past and pulls me down beside him. "What happened between you two up there?"  
  
"Everything and nothing at the same time," I answer tiredly, leaning against him with a yawn.  
  
"Are you going to elaborate on that for me?"  
  
"We had a chat in his room for a while, and I thought we had understood where the other was coming from." I sigh quietly and close my eyes. "And then, after you talked to him, he kissed me."  
  
"He kissed you?" He tries to keep his voice down, but I can hear the antipathy in it. "What did you do?"  
  
I can feel Virgil tense at my side and I take his hand comfortingly. "I pushed him away."  
  
He relaxes slightly. "Then what?"  
  
"We both got really mad at each other. He told me his comment to you about being single again was so I could let you down easy. Alan thought that because I fell asleep in his arms I was taking him back."  
  
"But you aren't, right?"  
  
"No, I'm not." I turn and kiss him gently before standing up to finish my unpacking. "Where's your father?"  
  
"In the lounge, talking to John about this escapade. He sent me here to get you." Virgil admits, realizing he's become sidetracked from his mission.  
  
"He wants to see me?" I swallow hard. "Is he still mad?"  
  
"Not as much as he was before. Still a bit purple, though." He smiles at me.  
  
"Thanks for the reassurance, Virgil," I mutter sarcastically.  
  
He gets to his feet and holds me tightly. "If it's any cancellation, he's much more upset about Thunderbird Three than about us."  
  
"Isn't he worried about Alan, and angry at me for doing such a thing?"  
  
"Sure he is, but I told him not to meddle in our personal lives unless he had to."  
  
"That's not going to stop him though, is it?" I ask anxiously.  
  
"Probably not."  
  
+++  
  
When I enter the living room a few minutes later, I find Mr. Tracy talking to Scott, who is perched on the corner of his desk.  
  
"Where is Alan now?" Mr. Tracy says, saying goodbye to John as he sees me out of the corner of his eye. I hang back, listening to their conversation, until he beckons me forward.  
  
"He's in the garage, last I heard from him. Probably taking apart the motorcar engine again."  
  
I can't help but smile at Scott's answer. The resolution hits me hard as my mind involuntarily brings up the fact that Alan is still Alan, and even though we are not together, he is still the same person. When he is frustrated with the world, he disappears into the garage and tinkers around with his racecar until he reappears several hours later, covered in grease from head to toe.  
  
Scott notices me and excuses himself, wandering into the kitchen to get a drink.  
  
"Mr. Tracy." I greet him calmly, though my body is strained with worry that he'll do something drastic to me after what I'd done.  
  
"Tin-Tin." He nods and goes to sit behind his desk before peering at me. "Before I begin asking questions, what do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
I gulp and then take a deep breath, cursing myself for not being prepared. I meet his eyes steadily and begin my explanation. "I didn't mean to cause anyone harm, Mr. Tracy. I took Thunderbird Three because I felt it my responsibility to sort things out with Alan."  
  
"If John had not caught you in time, would you have taken it on your own?"  
  
"Yes, I would have."  
  
"Do you realize how much danger you put yourself and possibly the organization in?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Tracy," I reply numbly, knowing he is not interested in a solid response.  
  
"If you had neglected to turn on the cloaking device, anyone could have tracked the whereabouts of the craft if it was in the vicinity of their radar. And, if something had gone wrong, we would have been unable to save you because we don't have another spaceship."  
  
I nod soundlessly, showing him I understood.  
  
He stands up and approaches me, positioning himself a few feet away. I lift my head and look at him, interested as to what else he's going to say.  
  
"And, Tin-Tin, if your trip to Thunderbird Five would hadn't been successful, we would have lost something much more important."  
  
I tilt my head, my curiosity obvious in my expression. "What's that, Mr. Tracy?"  
  
"You."  
  
I smile guiltily. "Thank you, Mr. Tracy."  
  
"I'm just glad you're safe." He sits back down at his desk and dismisses me. I try to hide my surprise at the fact that he didn't bring up my relationships with both Virgil and Alan. I turn to leave and turn around at his voice again. "Oh, and Tin-Tin?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Tracy?"  
  
"Don't ever hijack Thunderbird Three again."  
  
I grin slightly and nod. "Of course not, Mr. Tracy." 


	15. Book One: Fight

Aww. . .you guys are much too nice to me. Look at all those reviews! Love you all! Anyway, here's some more because I just couldn't keep away from my writing for longer than a few days. Oh, and thanks to NovaG for the base of a line I used in here. :)  
  
Angelina  
  
++++++++  
  
That night I enter the living room to find it surprisingly vacant. Scott's gone for a walk on the beach, Gordon's doing maintenance checks on Thunderbird Four with Brains, my father and Grandma are cleaning up in the kitchen and Mr. Tracy has disappeared. I wonder briefly where he is before sitting down at his desk and turning on the locator screen.  
  
Mr. Tracy isn't really the one I'm concerned about. I haven't seen Alan since he brushed past me coldly on his way to his room, leaving a small smear of grease on the sleeve of my blouse. He spent the entire afternoon in the garage, probably reconstructing the extra racecar motor that he used to use as a spare in his racing days. It seems to be a common place to find him while he's on the island.  
  
I watch the coloured blips with interest, pinpointing Scott's location on the other side of the island. He's stationary, so my guess it that he's sitting and watching the waves, or searching the sky for Thunderbird Five. Brains and Gordon were indeed in Thunderbird Two bay, checking out pod four and it's contents. As I continue to look at the screen, I notice two dots in Alan's room.  
  
I recognize Alan's mark and then identify the other, one I hadn't even been looking for - Virgil's. Together. In Alan's room.  
  
Thinking back to the time when I'd been helping my father clean Mr. Tracy's desk, I hunt for the switch to the monitors that are wired into every room of the house. They are used simply for communication - Mr. Tracy can talk to his sons, Brains, or anyone else in the villa by merely pressing a button - but I get the sudden urge to use them for other things.  
  
I'm going to spy on Virgil and Alan, and see what exactly is going on.  
  
The monitor turns on soundlessly, as if I have not instructed it to call Alan or let him know I'm there. I get a full view of the room's owner, and Virgil's hand as he gestures wildly. It takes a few moments for me to catch the conversation and to make sense of it, but once I do, I'm captivated and unable to even twitch a muscle as I watch the screen.  
  
Alan glares at Virgil with eyes of stone, and I can nearly feel the arctic look from where I'm sitting. "Well, Virgil," he says softly, his tone menacing. "You aren't very loyal, are you?"  
  
"Loyalty has nothing to do with it."  
  
"Nothing? Not even when it's your little brother's girlfriend you're using to fill the emptiness?" Alan shoots back forebodingly.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Virgil answers.  
  
"Of course you do. You only want Tin-Tin because she's the only woman on the island and you've been jealous of me, and the fact that I had someone to love, since day one."  
  
"I have not! I wouldn't do that to Tin-Tin, you know I wouldn't."  
  
"Then why would you do it to me, your own brother?"  
  
Virgil falters, trying to come up with an explanation. The one he gives isn't what I was expecting, but it makes me flush with brazen pride. "Because I love her."  
  
"No you don't!" Alan screams, surprising me enough to evict my blush.  
  
"Don't tell me what I feel, Alan."  
  
"I'll do whatever I damn well please. You don't love Tin-Tin. . . you can't!"  
  
"Why not?" Virgil wonders smugly, crossing his arms.  
  
"She loves me and I love her!"  
  
"Not anymore. She's with me now."  
  
"She'll find out you're using her eventually Virgil. You don't really care about her, you never did. You're just fulfilling your needs with whoever's available - in this case, my girlfriend!" Alan yells angrily, his eyes flashing with rage.  
  
"You don't understand, do you, Alan?" Virgil asks, his patience wearing thin. "She prompted the first kiss we shared. I didn't even touch her. She made the first move, not me."  
  
"You're lying!"  
  
"No, I'm not," Virgil replies calmly. "Why would I lie?"  
  
"To make me pin the blame on her. It's not her fault you seduced her!"  
  
"I didn't need to seduce her. She wanted me as much as I wanted her."  
  
"You're a liar, Virgil Grissom Tracy! I hate you!"  
  
"Hate me all you like, Alan. I'm giving you the facts."  
  
Alan trembles visibly with fury, his fists clenched rigidly at his sides. Then, just when I think I've seen all there is to see, and that he's going to storm away or kick Virgil out of his room, my breath catches in my throat.  
  
Taking an intimidating step forward, Alan lunges at his older brother, swinging madly for his face. The strike hits Virgil in the right eye and both men fall to the floor as I watch in horror from Mr. Tracy's desk.  
  
My resolve to stay silent crumbles and I stand up, knocking the chair over backwards behind me. "Alan!" I scream, shocked at the violent side of him I had never witnessed before. "Virgil!"  
  
Leaving the monitor on, I run to Alan's room and force open the door, rushing to Virgil's side. I drop to my knees as Alan picks himself up off the ground and glares at him, and then at me.  
  
"You're going to get hurt, Tin-Tin," he growls lowly, his voice little more than a hiss.  
  
"Don't try and make me think you're looking out for me, Alan." My eyes narrow as I help Virgil sit up, the skin around his eye already beginning to show the faint tinges of a bruise. "He was telling you the truth, and you were too stubborn to listen to him."  
  
"Fine, then. If what he said wasn't a lie, it means you're at fault just as much as he is. How could you, Tin-Tin? I thought you loved me."  
  
"I'm not going to fall for your guilt trip. Yes, I kissed him, and yes, he kissed me back. I did love you, Alan. But. . .I guess, well, I guess things have just changed."  
  
"Just like that?" Alan snaps his fingers in bewilderment.  
  
"No. It's been a long time coming."  
  
"You're just saying that because he's pulled the cover over your eyes and you're too blind to see what he's really doing to you."  
  
"How dare you say such a thing," I spit in abhorrence. "I am not blind, and he is not doing anything to me. He's doing more for me than you ever did!"  
  
"That's a load of bullshit and you know it!"  
  
"When was the last time we walked along the beach together, or - or you woke me up early to see the sun rise so we could have a moment alone? He did those things for me, Alan, and it's been a good year since you've even attempted them."  
  
"I've been busy," he protests weakly, letting me know I've hit a sensitive point.  
  
"Too busy for me?"  
  
"I was never too busy for you." His expression softens slightly, his eyes losing their angry spark.  
  
"You took me for granted."  
  
Virgil springs to his feet, startling me. I had forgotten he was even there. He scowls at Alan and walks smoothly out of the room, heading to the kitchen to find an ice pack for his eye.  
  
Alan watches him leave, not responding to my last sentence until he's gone. "It doesn't matter what you say, Tin-Tin. Nothing and no one can make me stop loving you." 


	16. Book One: Announcement

Hey guys! Again, thanks so much for your wonderful reviews. Look how many there are! I'm in utter shock. Anyway, Torn is slowly winding down. I'm thinking two more chapters after this and that will be it! I've had an awesome time writing it, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it. Oh, also, sorry it took me so long to write this chapter. I wasn't quite sure where I was going to go with it.  
  
Angelina  
  
++++++++  
  
I've seen little of Alan since we came back from Thunderbird 5. He's closed himself to human contact, and won't even say a word to me. I've never witnessed him hurt like this, and to know I caused it creates a knot in my stomach. All I can do is hope he'll forget about Virgil and I and move on.  
  
I don't understand it. I have what I want, but I can't seem to enjoy it. Seeing Alan so introverted around everyone, especially me, is something I never want to experience again.  
  
A part of me knows there is a way to cheer him up. I could go back to him, and pretend nothing ever happened between his brother and me. Another part of me knows I can't do that, and I don't want to either. I love Virgil. Alan is a part of the past.  
  
So why does it hurt so much?  
  
All I can do is ask myself that over and over again until the words completely take over my mind. This shouldn't affect me so much, but even though I know that, it still does. I feel more responsible than ever, and no matter what Virgil does, I can't seem to pull myself out of it.  
  
I have to do something. I have to get Alan out of my mind and concentrate on Virgil, or else I'll be jeopardizing that relationship too. To lose what I had with Alan is one thing, to lose that and what I now have with Virgil would be too much to bear.  
  
I glance up from the magazine I am reading on the couch, though I never actually saw the words in the article. They moved and blended to a state of illegibleness at least an hour ago. I've been much too preoccupied to care about some new kind of science equipment that is the largest breakthrough in quite a few years.  
  
I fold down the page, vowing to give it to Brains to study later, and lean back against the couch. I close my eyes, stretching my legs out and sighing, trying my best to relax. Just as I'm about to fall into a welcomed sleep, I feel something delicate brush against my lips and I sit bolt upright in surprise.  
  
Wearing a cheeky grin, Virgil lowers himself onto the couch beside me and I smile at him.  
  
"How are you doing, Tin-Tin?" He asks, noticing the look in my eyes despite my pleased expression.  
  
"Better, I think," I answer honestly, hiding a yawn. Another symptom of feeling guilty seems to be lack of sleep. I'm so tired these days - mainly because I lie in my bed and can't help but think about the situation I am presently in.  
  
He pats my leg comfortingly. "Dinner will be ready soon. Want to go help Grandma set the table with me?"  
  
It is a simple task, but I know he's trying to distract me from my thoughts. "Sure." I stand up wearily and follow him into the kitchen.  
  
Virgil greets his grandmother warmly and begins putting out the placemats, watching me out of the corner of his black and blue eye. The bruise has begun to fade to the shades of the thinned paints he uses in his watercolour washes, but it's still a painful reminder of the fight I broke up the other day.  
  
"Hi, Mrs. Tracy," I say quietly, knowing she hasn't thought very highly of me these last few days.  
  
"Good evening, Tin-Tin." The words are filled with forced cheeriness and mock me, playing over in my mind.  
  
I bite back a sigh and begin setting out the cutlery. As I raise my head and glance forlornly out the window to the sheer waters of the pool below, a familiar shock of blond hair catches my attention. I place the fork I'm holding on the table quietly and watch Alan, wondering what he's doing.  
  
He leans on the railing and looks down at the ocean, the waves lapping gently against the pearly sand. The placid breeze ruffles his hair and I can't help remembering how many times my fingers have done the same. I force myself to look away, accidentally meeting Virgil's gaze in the process.  
  
I can read the concern in his eyes as if it were flashing the word in red letters on his forehead. Blatant regret wells up in my throat and I do my best to smile at him, wondering if he knows what I was looking at. From the expression on his face, I'm nearly positive he does.  
  
I have to stop this. . .obsession with Alan and his pain. Even just seeing him makes me feel sick with shame. I can't live my life like this. I have to get over him, and make sure he gets over me. There's no other choice. Soon Virgil will become fed up with my fixation with his brother and there will be no way I could ever make him understand. No matter how bad he feels for betraying Alan, there is absolutely no chance it could compare to this.  
  
I shake the feelings away and finish setting the table, filling my head with thoughts only of the man pouring various drinks into tall glasses. He looks up and grins at me before he places the cups at different locations, knowing where everyone sits by heart.  
  
I remember how he looked on the boat, with the wind blowing his shirt open and caressing his hair, the dazzling sun setting it alight. I remember the look in his eyes that night in my room; the mix of shock, desire and alarm that radiated from his lips when I kissed them for the first time. I remember the feeling of his arms around me when he told me he loved me, and the way he has reassured me every time I get upset about Alan.  
  
I have this wonderful man who possess a great deal of compassion, and is giving me the space I need, yet all I can do is think about someone else. There must be something wrong with me.  
  
+++  
  
That night at dinner, the table is relatively quiet. Scott and Brains are discussing a way to cut back on the amount of fuel Thunderbird One uses during takeoff. Alan stares blankly at his plate, hardly seeing the food on it. Virgil and I carry on a quiet conversation between ourselves while Gordon tries to get his fork to stand straight up in his mashed potatoes. He, like everyone else, is trying to amuse himself with something other than the predicament at hand.  
  
When anything is wrong with someone living on Tracy Island, the entire population of people in the house feel it. There's a solid band of tension that hangs over our heads thick enough that even a knife would only partially sever it.  
  
Suddenly, someone clears their throat and we lapse into silence. I look up and notice with slight surprise that it was Alan who has broken the muted din.  
  
"Father?" He says, taking a sip of the water in front of him.  
  
"Yes, Alan?"  
  
"I'm going on vacation." 


	17. Book One: Confession

Well, it's certainly been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry it took me so long; I just really haven't been in the writing 'groove' since the Christmas holidays. I promise I'll try harder to post more frequently. Thanks for the wonderful reviews up to this point! Please continue to do so!  
  
Oh, and I lied. You know how I said there might only be a few more chapters? Well. . .I got a bit of an idea. Let me know if I should save it for another story or if you want me to just continue this one. It could be like a two book thing, with this one being the first novel and the next, incorporating my new idea, could be the second. What do you guys think of that idea?  
  
This could be the end. . .It might not be the end. . .Hmmm. . .  
  
Angelina  
  
++++++++  
  
It's been a week since Alan left, and the pain has begun to evaporate into the dark cloud hanging over the island, pushing it away. He's gone off to the mainland for a fortnight, to visit an old school friend of his.  
  
On our last night of solitude, Virgil and I sit by the pool, watching the moon rise over the palm trees. Alan would be back the next morning, but my feelings for Virgil have never been stronger. Alan's absence seemed to be just what the doctor ordered.  
  
The rescue that afternoon had drained all those who participated, and I'm almost afraid Virgil's going to fall asleep beside me. His head is tilted towards the stars, lids partially hiding his chocolate eyes as he pretends not to be exhausted. I know better.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to go inside?" I ask, leaning my head on his shoulder.  
  
"I'm sure." He turns to look at me and I sense a smile on his lips. He lifts his hand and I feel gentle fingers on my hair and cheek. "I love you, Tin-Tin."  
  
This time, the smile is on my own face as I raise my head. "I love you too, Virgil." I kiss him lightly and go back to my earlier position, searching the stars for nothing in particular.  
  
"Do you remember when you had a crush on Scott?" He says after a long moment of contented silence.  
  
I look up again, pulling away from him and meeting his gaze evenly. "I never had a crush on Scott."  
  
"Yes, you did. When you first came here, before anything happened between you and Alan."  
  
"That's not true."  
  
"It is, I know it is." I can see the teasing look on his face even in the dark, the starlight making his eyes shine.  
  
"If I did, I'd be the most fickle person in the universe," I point out.  
  
"Who said you weren't?"  
  
"Virgil!"  
  
He laughs quietly and puts his arm around me, resting it on the back of the chair.  
  
"I never had a crush on Scott," I say again, making sure he knows I'm telling the truth.  
  
"I know."  
  
"You what? You know? Then why did you say I did?"  
  
"To agitate you. Gordon does it to me all the time."  
  
I scowl at him. "That wasn't very nice of you."  
  
He sighs, still grinning broadly. "I know. How can I make it up to you?" He asks, moving nearer to me on the spacious lounger and wrapping his other arm around me, pulling me close.  
  
"A simple apology will do just fine," I answer, cuddling up against him under the watchful eye of the falcate moon.  
  
He brings my head up with a slender finger before moving his lips within inches of mine. "I have a better idea," he murmurs, kissing me deeply, his fatigue pushed to the farthest corners of his mind.  
  
+++  
  
The next morning at breakfast, the previously vacant seat on one side of the table has its occupant back. All that's visible is a tuft of blond hair from behind the newspaper held in front of Alan's face.  
  
"Hey dad, did you hear about that landslide in western Canada yesterday? It's too bad nobody called for help. I bet Brains' new earthmover would have done the trick." He peers over the paper, his eyes settling on me. "Oh, Tin-Tin, it's you."  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you, Alan," I answer, trying to sound bright and cheery. "Your father's in the garden with mine."  
  
"You never disappoint me."  
  
His response takes me by surprise and I freeze on my way towards the stove, planning to pour myself a cup of tea. It wasn't even so much the words that shocked me, it was almost as if the tone was laced with an emotion he didn't want to convey.  
  
"How was your visit with your friends?" I force myself to continue moving to the cupboard, standing on the tips of my toes to get a teacup from the top shelf.  
  
Alan seems to warm slightly, relieved just as I was to find a safe topic. "It was great. Tommy got himself a new car, so we took it for a zip around the track. That baby handled like a dream!"  
  
I shake my head lightly, smiling as I poured tepid tea into the china cup. Trust Alan to forget everything when there is a car involved. "Better than yours?"  
  
"None is better than mine," he scoffs good-naturedly, returning his attention to the newspaper he has now spread out on the table next to the bowl of cereal he's in the process of eating.  
  
I refill his coffee cup before casually taking a seat beside him at the table. I lean back in my chair, watching him as I sip my tea.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks quietly, turning the page in the newspaper to read up on the latest hockey scores.  
  
"They're not worth that much," I admit, staring into the pale depths of my teacup. "I just wanted to know how you were doing."  
  
"Overall, or in our situation?"  
  
Alan's direct response wasn't something I expected. I was waiting for him to dodge the topic, to beat around the bush and procrastinate before finally giving in and talking to someone -- anyone -- about it. He's always been the most soft-spoken when it comes to personal problems.  
  
"About us," I answer, not daring to look at him.  
  
He lets his breath out quietly and I finally let my eyes drift from my tea to him. The newspaper sits forgotten as he traces the pattern of the tablecloth with his index finger, thinking. "I'm, well, better, I suppose."  
  
"Really?"  
  
He glances up at me, his sincerity plain in his expression as he nods. "I wouldn't go as far as to say I've completely accepted it, but I think I'll survive." He tries a smile and I return it in liberation. "I'm going to miss you," he whispers and I almost don't hear him.  
  
"I know," I answer just as delicately. "I'm going to miss you too."  
  
And it's the honest truth. Alan and I went through a lot together, and a part of me is sad to see it go. I guess it's true what they say: old flames never die. Alan Tracy will always be in my heart, no matter whom I'm with. As my first steady boyfriend, no one will ever be able to replace him.  
  
"Alan?"  
  
"Yes, Tin-Tin?"  
  
"Thank you. For finally putting my mind at some sort of ease, I mean," I say timidly, feeling a weight lifting off my shoulders.  
  
"I didn't have much choice, did I?" He replies, tone holding not an ounce of self-pity.  
  
I shake my head regretfully. "No, I don't think you did."  
  
He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, snapping me out of my silent thoughts as I look up at him.  
  
"Tin-Tin. . ." he begins softly, as if searching carefully for the words before choosing what he's going to say.  
  
I wait patiently, curious as to what he wants to tell me.  
  
He removes his gaze from the tablecloth and looks at me, his eyes boring into mine. When he finally does speak, his words aren't what I thought they were going to be. They drip candor, devotion and the sense of a locked up confession finally being brought to the surface.  
  
"No matter what happens," he murmurs, "No one and nothing can ever make me stop loving you."  
  
  
  
. . .THE END? 


	18. Book Two: Headache

So here's what I've decided, both with help from you awesome reviewers, and also because of some ideas I've had recently - the show must continue! And by show, I mean of course, this story. It will be broken into two 'books', this being the first chapter of the second one. Thanks for reading, and please continue to review!  
  
Angelina  
  
+++++++++++++  
  
The sun streams through the open window beside the couch, it's rays creating intricate designs on the cushions and my bare legs as I look out at the ocean beyond. The waves caress the sand that dares to penetrate its depths, white caps dotting their blue tips. It is afternoons like these that I remember the day in the boat and everything that ran through my head during those few hours.  
  
That night was the beginning of a new section in my life. The chapters of my time with Alan were bound closed and locked away to be forever treasured in my mind. A new book was opened, fresh pages being read for the first time. It is this book I am currently experiencing, but no longer is Alan the one reading it with me.  
  
No, not this time. This time, it's his older brother Virgil.  
  
It's been three months since my conversation with Alan played out. The conversation in which he told me nothing could banish the feelings he had for me. I guess, in a sense, he is still holding onto that book we created, reading over the love we shared and everything we went through to be where we are now.  
  
My mind fogs over like the island during the young hours of the morning when everything is silent and still. Morning air that smells of the day to come, unsullied dew lining the blades of grass that dance in the dawn wind. . .That is how I feel. Like a door has opened and given me opportunities I've never had before.  
  
And I fully intend to make use of what that door has exposed to me.  
  
A content sigh escapes my lips as I settle down deeper against the couch pillows, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my legs. The curtains flutter behind the sofa as if playing in the tepid spring breeze. Clouds sail across the azure sky without a care, as if the only thing that matters is the present. No one's looking ahead, no one's looking behind; right now is all anyone cares about.  
  
Everything seems right in the world.  
  
I unfold my legs reluctantly and stand up, stretching lazily towards the roof. As content as I may be, there is still work to be done. I start down the hall, my bare feet making a pleasant padding sound on the soft carpet as I head to my room to change for supper. According to Grandma Tracy, shorts and a t-shirt are hardly acceptable for dining.  
  
I smile and roll my eyes at the thought. The strong, patient, reliable woman has finally come around and has taken me back under her wing again. Like the granddaughter she never had, says Virgil. Inside, I'm much more relieved as I care to let on. It's difficult living in a house with all- male occupants. Grandma Tracy was the closest thing to a female friend I've had in a long time.  
  
As I leave my room, I run into my father coming out of his. He looks relaxed and fit, healthier than I've seen him in a long while. A month ago, my father suffered one of his attacks. To this day, no one has been able to find out what has been causing them. But when the subject is approached, no matter who brings it up, he backs out of the conversation, giving any excuse he can think of.  
  
But recently, he has not had to do such a thing. For the last few weeks, he's been roaming around the island as active and well as any of Mr. Tracy's sons. It's been a long time since I've seen him like this, and it's a welcome change. He seems to have been miraculously cured.  
  
"Good evening, my daughter." My father smiles at me in his gentle way and I return it.  
  
"Good evening, Father. How are you doing?"  
  
"Very well, Tin-Tin. Care to accompany me to supper?"  
  
"Of course." I beam happily and take his offered arm.  
  
We arrive in the dining room just in time to hear Alan and Gordon making vulgar remarks about a woman they saw on television. Their laughter reaches my ears and I can't help but grin. Trust them to think of such things concerning an anchorwoman for the Sydney news. My father immediately goes to set the table as I head in the opposite direction.  
  
Virgil passes and kisses me lightly on the cheek as I head into the kitchen to help Grandma Tracy dish out the food. She's outdone herself this night, I think to myself as I take the salad into the dining room. The food holds a hearty scent and it immediately catches the attention of the men sitting at the table as we place it on the table.  
  
"Brains, have you found out what was causing Thunderbird One's radio to malfunction yesterday?" Mr. Tracy helps himself to some of the salad as the engineer at the other end of the table shakes his head.  
  
"N-No, sir. It is highly p-p-possible that it was just, uh, interference from the e-environment. But I will continue to l-look into it."  
  
"Thank you, Brains. Scott, would you pass the potatoes, please?"  
  
And so dinner goes, the spacious room filling with the sounds of laughter and conversation. In all my life, I have never seen a family quite like the Tracy's. They're definitely one of a kind.  
  
Near the end of the meal, I begin to feel a faint pulsing in my head. Dismissing it as simply a headache, I take another breadstick from the basket before me. In only minutes, it has gotten worse and I try to blink the dizziness away.  
  
I glance up as a hand rests on mine. Virgil, sitting next to me, is displaying a look of pure concern. "Tin-Tin, are you all right?"  
  
I manage a nod and return to my dinner. Before long, the contents of my plate have merged into a single dark, indistinct shape. My head is throbbing now and it takes all my strength to stay upright. What is causing this tremendous amount of pain? It can't be a headache - I've never experienced anything like this before.  
  
"Tin-Tin?" I'm only vaguely aware of Virgil calling my name as the pain begins to worsen, making the room spin.  
  
In an effort to curb the pulsating in my brain, I shut my eyes and grab onto Virgil's hand, letting my other one grasp the chair I'm sitting on. It feels as though my head is splitting in two. The room shakes beneath me and I break out into a cold sweat, letting out a hoarse cry before sliding sideways in a dead faint.  
  
As the pain begins to abscond, a sheet of never-ending blackness replaces it. I can't see anything, can't hear anything, and have no idea what's going on.  
  
That is, until I heard the voice.  
  
"Your father is no help to me anymore," it spits angrily, the words dripping with wickedness. "So you will have to do." 


	19. Book Two: Mystified

The darkness lifts and for a moment, I wrongfully believe I'm free of the evil grasp holding so tightly to me. Its cold fingers tighten around my throat, cutting off my air. Yet, I am still breathing. Sharp claws scratch at my body as if trying to pull me deeper into this nightmarish place. The black cloud descends again and I'm suspended in its nadir, frantically searching for a way out.  
  
"Who are you?" I scream desperately, feeling every ounce of myself tingling with an odd sensation I've never felt before - and never wish to feel again.  
  
Yellow eyes flash before me and I begin to weaken. I cry out and try to force my gaze away from them, but I'm riveted to their hypnotic glare.  
  
"Why, Tin-Tin, how terrible of you not to remember," the eyes say to me. The voice surrounds me, holding me in. A cynical laugh follows and I force myself not to cringe. It's like fingernails on a blackboard, piercing through my mind and aggravating the far corners of my brain.  
  
When I don't respond, the eyes narrow, shining even brighter in anger. "You foolish girl!"  
  
"I am not foolish," I murmur, calling forth all resolve I can. Steely determination floods through my veins and I manage to blink, loosening his hold on me.  
  
It's only seconds before he's gripping me tighter. So tight, I yell in pain, feeling as though my head is going to cave in at any minute.  
  
"What do you want with me?" I ask, despite the fact that I already know. There's only one thing he could want. . .  
  
"I want the secrets of International Rescue!" The words snap through the shadows and I can almost hear the wicked wheels in his head turning behind the eyes.  
  
"Then why do you need me?"  
  
"Your stupid father won't help me."  
  
The way the eyes blaze will be forever fixed in my memory as I try to pull myself out of this nightmare. "Why not?" With every question I speak against him, I feel myself becoming stronger. All I have to do is keep him talking.  
  
"Shut up!" He howls, reminding me of a pack of wolves serenading the night. His voice is not nearly as tranquil a sound.  
  
I shrink back, my muscles refusing to stay tense and alert. He's got me right where he wants me, and I know it.  
  
"Where is International Rescue's base?" He asks, eyes holding me as all sense of control deserts me.  
  
"I'm not. . .telling you," I gasp, emitting a loud groan of pain.  
  
The eyes draw closer, boring into me. "Speak, Tin-Tin! Tell me!"  
  
"No!" I cry, pulling air into my lungs. He'll never get answers out of me, no matter what he does.  
  
His eyes spark furiously against the obscure backdrop. It's easy to tell I've angered him, and for a moment I feel pleased. Until I hear his next threat.  
  
"Once I get what I want from you, I will kill you. You, and all your stupid little friends!"  
  
"You would never. . .succeed," I manage to whisper, my head throbbing at the intensity of his stare.  
  
"Just watch me."  
  
Then I'm slipping. . .slipping out of the trance, falling away from the eyes. They fade out and I come to, looking up at an off-white ceiling that surprises me.  
  
Why am I in the sick bay? I can't remember a thing. The only reminder of my time unconscious is the aching of my head. Words are a jumble in my brain and I fight to keep my heart rate down so Brains won't fuss over me. I can hear him tapping away on the computer at the other side of the room.  
  
I groan tiredly, the fog lifting off my thoughts as I turn on my side to look out the window. The scene outside doesn't help to ease the pain - the night is just as black as the world of nothingness I've just awakened from.  
  
"Brains?" I mutter, turning my head to look at him as I rest my head on one arm.  
  
He's by my side in an instant, the computer forgotten. "Tin-Tin, are you uh, all r-right?"  
  
I shake my head and immediately stop at the excruciating headache it brings to the surface. "Do you have some aspirin or something?"  
  
Brains nods and brings me some pills and a glass of water. Thankfully, I take them and gulp down the water, my parched throat sighing in relief. Almost straight away I feel better and the pain subsides a great deal. "Thanks, Brains."  
  
He smiles in what seems to be relief as the color returns to my face. "You're w-welcome."  
  
"What happened to me?" I wonder, watching the expression on his face as he realizes I have no idea what occurred.  
  
"You d-don't remember?"  
  
I shake my head once again, thankful not to feel like there's an earthquake taking place inside it.  
  
"I'm not quite uh, s-s-sure what happened, Tin-Tin. I've b-been running some tests while y-you were sleeping and er, everything appears to be n- normal."  
  
"But people don't black out if everything's normal." I wrinkle my forehead in confusion.  
  
He sighs quietly, perplexed. "I d-don't understand it. B-But you're in uh, perfect physical h-health."  
  
I lean back against the pillows tiredly. "How long was I out?"  
  
Brains checks his watch. "About t-two hours."  
  
"Two hours?" I exclaim. It felt like mere minutes, seconds even. Two hours? Impossible!  
  
He nods and goes back to his computer, looking through my medical records to see if there's any explanation for the sudden attack.  
  
Attack. Something clicks in my head at the word and I remember my father. His symptoms are so similar to mine it begins to frighten me. Could I have inherited some type of fainting disease?  
  
No, I decide. If there was any such thing, my father had only begun to exhibit these signs in the last few years. Surely it'd be years before I followed in his footsteps - that is, if he had passed some kind of virus down to me at all. It was a slim to none chance, but at least it was an explanation. By this time, I was ready to believe someone had hit me over the head with a frying pan. Anything to clarify what had happened.  
  
I watch Brains for a while, knowing exactly what he's doing. We update all the Tracy's records every time something happens to them, International Rescue related or not. That way, we can refer to the notes if a relapse occurs or we need to know who was the last one with a broken bone. Surprisingly, the boys love trying to top their brothers in absolutely everything - including the amount of times they've broken their wrists.  
  
The clicking of the keys turns into a drone as I let my eyes fall shut, allowing the sound to lull me into a dreamless sleep. 


	20. Book Two: Vacation

The next morning I awaken suddenly, feeling hot breath on my face. I sit bolt upright with a loud cry of warning, making whoever was standing over me step back in surprise. "Get away from me!" I scream, my eyes unfocused and my mind still fogged with sleep. "You will never get to them!"  
  
I let out a shuddering breath at the reassuring hand placed on my arm and blink away the cloud over my eyes. I meet the warm but concerned gaze of Virgil and fall back against the pillows, feeling as if I hadn't just slept deeper than the ocean is wide.  
  
"Tin-Tin, are you all right?" He sits down on the bed and looks at me, expression dark and worried.  
  
I nod and try to smile. "I just had a bit of a nightmare, that's all." I can tell he's not buying my excuse.  
  
The truth is, I don't know why I yelled what I did. I don't even know if I did have a nightmare, as I told Virgil. Icy chills run down my spine as I bring up a mental image of the only thing I can remember from my dream.  
  
A pair of narrow, yellow eyes.  
  
I pull the pale covers up to my neck, not wanting him to see how badly I'm trembling. I glance around the medical bay, wishing I were in my own bed. After much protest on my part and at Brains' insistence, I had spent the night in the sick room.  
  
"How are you feeling?" His voice brings me out of my thoughts and I concentrate on him again.  
  
"Just fine. I was never feeling anything less."  
  
"Then why did you pass out?"  
  
I shrug, trying to be nonchalant about the whole subject. Inside, my thoughts are still in turmoil. No one knows the answer to that question, least of all me. It's driving me up the wall just thinking about it. But there is one thing I know for sure.  
  
Those eyes are connected to it. Somehow. They're familiar, but I can't place them.  
  
And that's what worries me.  
  
"Tin-Tin?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, Virgil, I'm sorry." I smile weakly, feeling faint as the picture of the eyes in the back of my mind fades away. "I'm just a bit tired, I guess," I lie quickly, not wanting him to question me any more.  
  
He nods and rises to his feet. "I'll leave you to sleep then. Give me a shout if you need anything, okay?"  
  
I look up at him gratefully. "I will. Thanks, Virgil."  
  
He leans down and squeezes my hand before leaving the room. With a quiet sigh, I slide down beneath the sheets and stare at the ceiling until I fall asleep again. My last coherent thought was one wish: to have those eyes leave me alone and let me rest.  
  
+++  
  
That evening I leave the sick room and go back to my own to change for supper. What I find there surprises me. There is an open suitcase on my bed and someone in my closet.  
  
"Virgil?" I call, recognizing the soft humming coming from inside as I approached it.  
  
He pokes his head out and smiles. "Hi, Tin-Tin."  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Packing."  
  
"But why are you packing? And why are you putting my stuff in your bag?" I walk into the closet to see him pulling my favourite pair of slacks off their hanger.  
  
"Because you don't have a suitcase large enough," he replies simply.  
  
"Big enough for what?" I'm beginning to get exasperated with his vague answers and I know he can tell.  
  
He forgets the slacks, tossing them out of the closet in the general direction of my bed and wraps an arm around my waist. "Remember that trip we talked about taking? Once everyone had found out about us?"  
  
"Yeah, I remember. What about it?"  
  
"Well, we're leaving for the mainland tomorrow." He grins widely and tilts my head up for a gentle kiss. "I think we both need a break."  
  
I let out a blissful sigh, resting against him. "Sounds like a plan to me."  
  
"Do you think you might have passed out like that from stress?" Virgil wonders, leaving my side to pull down a white sweater on a hanger near him.  
  
I knew the topic would be broached again. I was just hoping it would be a long, long time before I had to face it again. "It's possible, I guess. But it's not like there's a lot of things to cause me stress around here."  
  
He smiles again and folds the sweater, heading back out into my bedroom. "Maybe you just can't take it like us men."  
  
I cross my arms, pretending to be offended. "And what is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Whatever you want it to."  
  
"Virgil Tracy, what do you expect of me? To stay home and make jam until I'm a grandmother?" I tease, sitting down on my bed and watching him organize my suitcase. It's nice to have someone else doing my work for me, for once.  
  
"You can make jam?"  
  
"Virgil!" I look at him harshly, though my shining eyes give me away.  
  
"Yes, Tin-Tin?" He chuckles at the look on my face and sits next to me, having finished packing the clothes I'd need for our short trip.  
  
I shake my head lightly. "I bet I could do just as well on rescues as you."  
  
He grins teasingly. "I'd like to see you try."  
  
"I am a good distraction."  
  
"What's that got to do with rescues?"  
  
"A whole lot. I could distract your audience so you could do your job."  
  
He kisses me again, holding me tightly against him. "You can distract me anytime," he murmurs.  
  
"Like now?" I ask softly.  
  
He smiles and finds my lips once more, answering my question without words. I slide my arms around his neck, deciding I'd much rather him pay attention to me than packing my overnight bag.  
  
+++++++++++++++  
  
I know, not a heck of a lot occurred in this chapter. . .it'll get better, I promise :)  
  
Angelina 


	21. Book Two: Drowning

The next afternoon finds me lying on my back under the mid-day sun. Virgil and I had left Tracy Island late the night before for our vacation and I was determined to use the days off to the fullest - which meant a lot of sun tanning, good food, and hours of relaxation. Already I was enjoying it.  
  
I let out a soft sigh of content, feeling the sun warm my body. Those evil yellow eyes were the farthest thing from my mind and I didn't plan on moving until supper.  
  
But then. . .I didn't expect to have water dumped on me either.  
  
I sit up, letting out a shriek of surprise as my sunglasses fall from my eyes and onto my damp stomach. As soon as I got a look at the person who was responsible for soaking me, I narrow my eyes and hide a smile.  
  
"Virgil Tracy, you're a dead man!" I jump up and hop on his back, pretending to attack him. I suppose I shouldn't have been admiring his bronzed skin and muscular form, as I end up in the sand around the patio soon after.  
  
He grins down at me. "You should know better than to go against me, Tin- Tin."  
  
I stand up and brush sand off my skin, glaring at him slightly. "You should know better than to dump cold water on a sleeping girlfriend. She might decide to withhold certain things as payback." I grin and turn away from him, going back to lie on my lounger.  
  
He pushes me over slightly to sit down beside me on the chair. "Come on, she wouldn't do that."  
  
"Wouldn't she?"  
  
He shook his head, the sun making his hair appear lighter than it was. "No, she wouldn't."  
  
"And why not?" I ask, giving him an innocent, blank stare.  
  
"Because she's on vacation and those things she'd be withholding are part of the agenda."  
  
I roll my eyes. "What agenda would that be?"  
  
"The eating, sleeping, sun tanning and swimming agenda."  
  
"Oh, right, that one. I forgot about that one," I say dryly, pretending not to be amused one bit.  
  
He pokes me lightly in the arm. "Come on, Tin-Tin. Don't be mad at me."  
  
I offer him a small smile. "I'm not mad at you. I just don't like having my sleep disrupted."  
  
He grins wickedly. "I hope you'll let me disrupt your sleep tonight. . ."  
  
I feel my cheeks heating up and know I'm blushing beneath my sunscreen. "Of course."  
  
"But what about all those things you plan on withholding?" He teases.  
  
I chuckle. "I'm not going to be withholding anything. You were right, I'm on vacation. Now move; you're in my sun." I give him a playful push and stretch out on my back again.  
  
He sighs and moves, deciding to leave me alone, I figure. That is, until the lounge chair is picked up and I'm thrown in the pool. I think I might have to kill him.  
  
"Virgil!" I scream before I hit the water. Damn that Tracy man, with those Tracy muscles.  
  
He just smirks down at me. "Oh, Tin-Tin, I don't think going swimming is going to give you an even tan."  
  
I glare at him and splash water at his feet. He's standing beside the pool now, looking at me in the water, the smile on his face aggravating. "Help me out?" It sounds like more of a question to both of us, but as far as I'm concerned, being in the pool on my own wasn't part of his 'agenda'.  
  
He smiles winningly, probably thinking I'll forgive him just because of his charm. He'll figure out that I won't soon enough. He reaches down to help me out. . .and I latch onto his arm, giving a firm tug, sending him head over heels into the water beside me.  
  
He splutters as he reaches the surface, wet hair hanging in his eyes instead of being slicked back like he always wears it. I decide I like it loose and messy.  
  
I grin widely at his soaked state. "Serves you right for being mean to me."  
  
"I wasn't being mean; I was simply cooling you off on a hot day."  
  
I roll my eyes. "Right."  
  
He comes at me quickly, planning to dunk my head under the water. I save him the trouble and do it myself, trying to get of his way.  
  
I swim beneath his legs, feeling him turn around above me, following me with his eyes. Just as I'm about to go back to the surface and splash him, my head begins to throb. What's left of the oxygen in my lungs quickly leaves and I take in water, trying to get it back.  
  
"It seems I've caught you at a rather bad time." The voice is back, pulsing through my brain and flooding into my ears with the water around me.  
  
I gurgle in response, choking on the chlorinated pool water, trying to get back to the air where Virgil is. But he won't let me go. He holds me down though he's not there, keeping me from speaking. It's the perfect time to make me do whatever he wishes; I can't fight back, I can't talk, and I'm afraid I may drown. He has me exactly how he wants me. Helpless.  
  
"You will do as I say, do you understand?" He cackles wickedly inside my head, knowing there's no way I can say no. I can't even breathe.  
  
The world flashes white, then red, and then white again, going in a continuous cycle, hypnotizing me. Blood roars in my ears and I try to scream, but nothing leaves my lips except water I've already taken in. As I try to breathe, more replaces it, sliding down my throat with cool, acidic tentacles.  
  
I can see his eyes in my mind now, and if I was scared before, I was terrified then. They flash, holding me tighter in his mental grasp, suspending me in the water I was sure was about to bring death to me.  
  
Virgil. . .I try to move my arms to reach for him, but they're locked at my sides. Why isn't he doing anything? Why can't he see I'm going to drown?  
  
Everything happens in only seconds. Maybe he thinks I'm playing a trick, or I'm trying to beat Gordon at staying under water for a certain length of time. But Gordon isn't around. As far as I know, I'm alone. Virgil may have even deserted me. I can't feel anything, see anything, or even tell if I'm still alive.  
  
Is this what death feels like?  
  
"You will kill him." He's back in my mind, giving his orders, and I don't have time to think of anything but his instructions. The words are cold and emotionless, and they make me shiver despite the warmth of the pool.  
  
I try to get a negative response out, but it just won't work. I know who he wants me to kill. It's too obvious, too plain to see.  
  
"If you kill him, they will see that I mean business. My dear Tin-Tin, you must kill your stupid boyfriend for me. If you don't, it will be you that meets death."  
  
Too late, I think to myself as the water seems to swallow me up. My head aches with the pressure and the lack of oxygen my lungs are getting.  
  
And then, the white and red flashes stop. The eyes disappear. The voice is gone. I sink down, down, down into the black depths of my consciousness until I can't sink any more. 


	22. Book Two: Alive

My body is awake before I am and the chlorine of the water stings as it passes between my lips. This time, though, I'm spitting it out without realizing it, choking on the water. There are strong arms around my waist, holding me up as my stomach heaves and water drips off my lips onto the hot tiles rimming the pool. My throat is sore from coughing and I can feel the heat of the tiles burning my knees. I keep my eyes shut even when I can gasp for breath again, my breathing shallow and uneven, matching the beats of my heart.  
  
I register the fact that I'm being hugged now, the strong arms even tighter around my middle, the bare upper torso against my body stiff with worry and tension. Water trickles down my back from my hair, making me shiver in the bright sunlight. The second my form begins to tremble, the hold on me is tightened once more. I'm almost afraid it'll make it more difficult to breathe.  
  
"Tin-Tin? Are you all right?" The voice is close to my ear and I raise my head, feeling the remains of the headache I had in the pool throb behind my temples. I faintly nod, daring to open my eyes to meet his.  
  
Virgil is the one holding me.  
  
Virgil, the one who saved me.  
  
Virgil, the one I have to kill.  
  
My blood runs cold through my veins as I hear the words in my head again. 'You will kill him'. They repeat in my mind like a wicked chant, over and over. If they were solid, they'd be sharp shards of glass, cutting me to pieces, engulfing me in their pain.  
  
I didn't realize there are tears streaming down my cheeks until Virgil began to wipe them away. I glance up at him, unable to offer the reassuring smile I want to, unable to tell him I'm completely fine. I'm not. I've been ordered to kill him.  
  
I manage to get my tears under control and move away from him. While my mind is still my own, my thoughts still coherent, I have to warn him. I have to tell him to get away from me, before I do something I don't want to do.  
  
"What happened down there?" He asks gently, unwilling to let me leave his side. He keeps me back from the water, as if afraid I'll try to jump in.  
  
"I. . .I don't know," I murmur, keeping my eyes on the tiles rimming the pool. I don't dare look at him. He'd know I'm lying.  
  
A slender finger finds its way beneath my head and raises it, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You just decided to stay under long enough to knock yourself out?"  
  
I shake my head and pull back, feeling guilt rise in my stomach. Why can't I tell him what happened? The answer is simple. If I tell him, he'll make me leave. He won't want anything to do with me; I'll lose him. On the other hand, he may not believe me. He may think I'm playing some kind of sick joke. If I don't tell him what's going on, will my mind be taken over again? Will I go through with the wishes of the terrible man in my head?  
  
Will I kill him?  
  
The questions run through my brain at the speed of light. I don't know what to do.  
  
"Tin-Tin?" The concerned tone breaks into my thoughts and I make myself glance up again. "What happened?" He repeats, his eyes searching mine as if they will provide him with an answer.  
  
"Nothing, Virgil," I murmur, my voice hoarse from the chlorine. My throat is dry, my tongue like sandpaper. "I was just. . .I just didn't realize I was still under water. I guess I just took a breath too soon."  
  
He raises a skeptical eyebrow but decides not to pry. I let out a silent sigh of relief. This is our vacation - if I'd told him the truth, I'd be spending my time alone. I couldn't bear it. Even though staying near him was putting my own life in danger, and my health, not to mention his, I don't want to have to let him go.  
  
I get a sudden surge of self-confidence. I can do it. I can override the man who ordered me to hurt Virgil. I don't care what it takes; I don't care what kind of pain I end up being put in. I can do it. I will do it.  
  
That just brings another question to mind. Who is that man inside my head? Hearing his voice brings an odd feeling of recognition, but I can't place it. I suppose his identity isn't as important as how to get rid of him is right now.  
  
Virgil stands and I allow him to pull me up beside him. "Let's get you upstairs," he says, almost more to himself than to me. I suppose he realizes I'm hardly paying attention to anything but my own thoughts.  
  
How can I possibly get the sinister man out of my brain? There has to be a way.  
  
I follow him wearily, letting him tow me along as he walks back to the hotel, through the crowd of spectators that had gathered to see what was going on. They slowly disperse and return to their activities around the hotel grounds.  
  
Before I realize it, we're upstairs, inside the sheltered walls of our small but soothing hotel room. I pull away from him and cross the floor to the picture window on the far side, glancing down at the rolling waves of the ocean, reflecting the light of the setting sun. It sparkles and dances against the shore, making me despise it for appearing so tranquil when I'm far from it.  
  
"Tin-Tin?"  
  
I turn slightly, my eyes focusing back on the only reason I am able to stand here and look down at that sea; so much like the one surrounding the island, yet in its own way, an entirely different image for me to gaze upon. "Yes?"  
  
Arms wrap around my waist and I lean back subconsciously, as I always do when he hugs me from behind. "What really happened out there?" Virgil asks quietly, his voice right next to my ear.  
  
I close my eyes, trying desperately not to remember the events as they played out - the tightening of my throat as my air began to slip away, the throbbing of my head from the voice in my mind, the sickening feeling that I wasn't ever going to breathe again. "I. . .I had another attack, I think."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"I mean, I. . .I did. Beneath the water. Oh, Virgil, it was terrible!" I swallow slowly, feeling my heart pounding. I want to open up, to confide in him completely. I bite my lip so hard I can taste the bitter tang of blood on my tongue.  
  
His expression darkens with concern. "Tin-Tin, maybe we should have you checked out by a doctor."  
  
"No!" I protest quickly, maybe too quickly. "No, Virgil, it's fine. I'm fine." I smile faintly, trying to discourage his idea of phoning a physician. "It must just be a hereditary thing. They never hurt my father that much, right?"  
  
"You're missing the point. Every time your father had one of these 'attacks', as we seem to be calling them, my dad brought in a doctor for him."  
  
"And he checked out completely fine, remember? The doctor couldn't find a single thing wrong with him. I hate doctors, Virgil. Please don't make me see one."  
  
He sighs heavily, releasing me and sinking down onto the large king bed beside the window. "Alright, no doctor. But Tin-Tin, if this persists, promise me you'll go to one."  
  
I nod slightly, giving a tiny smile. "I will, Virgil, I promise."  
  
"Good." He returns the smile. "Now, are you hungry?"  
  
I nod again. "Very. Where's that menu? I could use some room service."  
  
He grins, producing it from the bedside table. "Right here."  
  
I take it from him, relieved to have dodged the subject for a while. Now, all I had to do was dodge the attacks. . . 


	23. Book Two: Takeover

It happened that night.  
  
I was lying in bed, the sheets tucked around me, pulled up to my neck to protect me from the gentle breeze coming in through the parted window. The moonlight fell on the figure beside mine, hair aflame from the pale rays and bronzed skin shimmering where the blankets ended halfway up his chest. Virgil's eyes were closed and he looked so serene that I could nearly forget what had happened that day.  
  
Nearly.  
  
Hours ticked by, my mind filling with all the events that had taken place. The attack, the time after when I'd realized I was still alive, the fear I felt when I remembered what I had to do. Eating a quiet dinner on the balcony with Virgil as the sun went down behind the hills, the orange glow lighting the trees on fire as it dipped behind them. And after, going for a walk along the beach, feeling like all was right with the world when I knew it wasn't, enjoying his hand in mine and the sand beneath my bare feet. Then returning to the room at nearly midnight, neither of us tired, allowing a gentle goodnight kiss to lead to so much more.  
  
And now here, resting beside him, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts haunted by the eyes, by the fact that I'd been ordered to kill the man I love. I couldn't do it, not when I was thinking clearly.  
  
Little did I know coherent thought of my own wouldn't last much longer.  
  
Slowly a haze settles over my mind. I mistake it for sleep and give in, closing my eyes, thinking that perhaps I will get some shut eye before the sun comes up. But no matter how hard I try, sleep doesn't come. Yet I can't explain the feeling of weariness that has begun to consume me.  
  
I hear a voice in my mind. Perhaps I'm dreaming. It's sinister, dripping with hate, and barely recognizable as my body has given into exhaustion. It doesn't set in that it's artificially created, that the tiredness in my limbs isn't natural. It's caused by something - by him, the man taking over my brain.  
  
"Are you ready to do what I asked of you, Tin-Tin?" He sneers, the eyes illuminated on my eyelids, blocking out the world.  
  
I weakly shake my head, but it's no use. He has too much of me controlled now; I feel as though I'm no longer myself.  
  
His laughter makes me cringe slightly as it echoes through my ears. So cold and bitter, full of hatred for people he doesn't even know. How is it possible to hate those that help the world? I suppose I'll never truly know why he does.  
  
"Who are you?" The words are gentle off my lips, a whisper inside my head though I spoke them aloud in the silent room. Virgil, still sleeping soundly, doesn't stir.  
  
"Who I am does not matter," he drawls, sounding bored with the chit chat. He wants action, not conversation.  
  
"Why do you want to kill him?" My strength flickers as I retaliate with more questions and I can feel small sparks of it surging through myself whenever I speak. I must keep it that way, if I wish to regain use of my own mind.  
  
"It is not him I want to kill, dear Tin-Tin. It is the entire International Rescue that I want to come to an end."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Enough with the questions, you fool! Do as I ask or it is your life that will end. I want the secrets of that stupid organization and you are my way of getting them. You will do as I say or you will die, along with all those brainless people you work with!" He shouts, accentuating certain words and spitting them out as if they were poison.  
  
I shudder in fear. If something happened to the Tracy family, or to my father, or Grandma or Brains, it would be my fault. My thoughts were no longer my own. He had me now, and I could do nothing to resist him.  
  
My arms remove the sheet from around myself and my muscles seem to scream at me to stop them. There is nothing I can do. I was a prisoner in my own body, watching helplessly through eyes that seemed not to be my own any longer, knowing what was to come and knowing also that I could do nothing to stop it.  
  
I slipped out of bed and strode across the room to the robe lying on the chair. Putting it on and tying the belt around my waist would look as casual to anyone as it would to Virgil should he awaken. But inside, I was falling apart, crumbling to pieces as I tried to stop this madman from using me to carry out his evil deeds. My head spun and ached with sharper pains than I'd ever experienced and I was slowly dying away, completely taken over.  
  
My steps to the kitchen were my own, yet I don't recall how I got there. The next while would be nearly a blank, just a memory that would seem to have taken place so long ago. A drawer is pulled open by my fingers and the utensils inside gleam brightly under the moon and stars outside the window. A long, slender blade captures my attention and I reach for it, taking the bone handle in my hand, feeling its smoothly carved surface against my palm. I adjust my grip, holding it tightly and raising it above my head.  
  
"Yes," came the evil voice inside my head, "Just what I was hoping we'd find."  
  
The cruel eyes, still in my mind, darken with hatred and narrow in intent. The knife, held in my own hand, would be the one he used to kill Virgil.  
  
Quietly I tread back to the bedroom, across the gently worn carpet until I stand before the bed, looking down at the figure beneath the sheets. For a split second, my mind is my own, him allowing me only to think, not to act, to realize what he is about to put me through.  
  
I see the strands of his hair, the moonlight acting on them as before, the same pieces I'd recently run my fingers through in a fit of passion. The gentle curves of his face that I'd come to know so well, dark eyelashes brushing against his cheek as he slept. The lips, those I'd kissed so many times, pulled into an expression of utter content. The rugged jaw line, neck and muscular shoulders that gave way to a perfectly sculpted, powerful torso I'd rested against countless nights, huddled beneath the sheets with him. The heart I knew that beat beneath it, filled with love for me just as mine was for him.  
  
If all went to plan, that heart would no longer palpitate. The thought struck me like the knife I was holding and I felt my resolve strengthen and the man that had come to manipulate me pushed farther to the back of my mind. Tears ran down my cheeks as I let out a howl of sorrow and rage and threw the knife across the room. It struck the wall, embedding itself within the plaster as I crumpled to my knees.  
  
I'd escaped. For the brief moment his control had flickered, I'd gotten my own self back. Goosebumps erupt from my skin as I sit huddled inside the robe, crying silently, too hard to make noise. Down my neck glide the translucent tears as I shake uncontrollably, the emotions too strong to make sense of now.  
  
The man has left for the time being, and the relief that floods me was quickly replaced with guilt for letting him dominate me and use me for his wicked plans. If I had not broken away at that time, Virgil would be dead, killed by my own hand.  
  
"Tin-Tin?" The cry had roused him from his sleep and he'd climbed out of bed, making his way to my dark, crouched self sitting on the floor.  
  
The pale morning light from the rising sun took that chance to hit the blade, buried deep in the wall, thrown there by a force I had not realized I even possessed. I could sense he was looking at it in shock, wondering how it'd gotten there, and why it was out of the drawer in the first place.  
  
"Tin-Tin, what the hell is going on here?" 


	24. Book Two: Truth

I try desperately to control my sobs, the cold reality of what I'd nearly done sinking in like a frost in the winter, chilling me. I glance up at him, so relieved he's alive, and his expression softens as he takes in my tears.  
  
Settling down on the carpet beside me and gathering me in his arms, he tries to wipe them away with his fingers but they continue coming too fast. "Tin-Tin, what's going on?" He murmurs quietly, the hard tone I'd heard moments before gone from his voice.  
  
I swallow and hiccup, trying to bring in air to fill my lungs, closing my eyes briefly to try and shut off the tears. "I don't. . .I don't know."  
  
He pauses for a moment, rubbing my back to try and soothe me. He has no idea what has just taken place, no idea that his would-be murderer is the one in his embrace. "You do know," he responds quietly, not pressing for details until I've calmed down enough to speak.  
  
"I do know," I repeat, the last couple minutes covered in fog yet still visible to me in my mind.  
  
He stands, pulling me up with him, and leads me back to the bed. Feeling helpless, I allow him to tuck me back in and pull me close beneath the thick blanket he's laid over both of us. "Calm down," he says next to my ear, oblivious. "Tell me what happened. Everything, Tin-Tin."  
  
I don't answer for what seems like an eternity to the both of us. It takes time for me to decide what to tell him and what not to. Should I come clean about all of it, including the fact that I'm part of an evil scheme to kill him? It's one of the hardest decisions I've ever made. I risk everything I have if I tell the complete truth. The silence continues as I keep on pondering.  
  
"Did it have anything to do with these attacks you've been suffering?" He asks gently, trying to coax answers out of me.  
  
I nod and sniffle, moving closer to him in an effort to perhaps scare my thoughts and memories away.  
  
"Tell me what happened," he urges carefully. "I have to know if I'm to help."  
  
I say what he least is expecting. "There's a man. . ." I begin, my voice trembling quietly. "There's a man i-inside my head."  
  
"Inside your head? Tin-Tin, I'm not kidding about all this, and neither should you be. What is going on?"  
  
"It's the truth, Virgil!" I cry, feeling everything I've been wanting to tell him welling up in my throat. "There's - there's someone there, controlling me, taking over my thoughts."  
  
He narrows his eyes. "There's someone in your head?" It didn't seem to be making sense to him. But who could blame him, in all honesty? It sounded farfetched, even to me.  
  
I nod vigorously, trying to make him understand. "He speaks to me, Virgil. He tries to make do things I don't want to do."  
  
"Such as?" He pries, wanting to get to the bottom of this.  
  
"He - He wanted me to kill you."  
  
I can feel his body stiffen against mine. "Kill me?" He repeats softly.  
  
I nod again, more tears falling down my cheeks and a sob escaping my throat. "He said that. . .that if I didn't kill you, he'd kill me."  
  
"Tin-Tin, you must have dreamed all this," he concludes rationally.  
  
"No!" I protest loudly, hating to be thought of as some kind of foolish girl. "I didn't dream any of it. In the pool, when I nearly drowned, it was because he was holding me there under the water. He was, Virgil, he really was!"  
  
Despite it all, he continues to try and make me feel better. "You're getting yourself worked up, Tin-Tin. You're not thinking clearly."  
  
"I am thinking clearly!" I pull away from him roughly, eyes angry as I look at him. "Do you think I'd make something like this up?" It's difficult to keep my voice down, unable to comprehend the fact he doesn't believe me.  
  
"Tin-Tin, please calm down. Are you really serious that there's a man using. . .some form of psychological power on you?"  
  
"Yes, Virgil! Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying! I was lying awake and he came and took over, and the next thing I knew I was standing at the foot of the bed holding a knife!" My body racks with sobs but I won't allow him to comfort me any more. Only when he sees the truth - and this is it.  
  
"That knife?" He looks across the room at the one driven so forcefully into the wall. "You were holding that knife?" Slowly the pieces seem to be coming together but he still appears to be a state of disbelief. "With what intent?" He glances back at me, already knowing the answer but not willing to accept it.  
  
"He was controlling everything I did; I couldn't stop it. He wanted me to kill you. . .with that knife."  
  
His lips set in a firm line as he contemplates this information. "But you didn't. Why didn't you kill me, Tin-Tin?"  
  
"I couldn't do it, Virgil. I saw you lying there and - and I just couldn't do it. His strength began to loosen and he let me go, and I threw the knife at the wall. Virgil, please, you must believe me," I pleaded urgently, begging him with my eyes. "You must believe me."  
  
He nodded faintly, silence falling over us as he thought. "I don't know what to say," he murmured finally, his gaze searching mine. "You swear this is the truth?"  
  
"I promise it is, Virgil. I promise it is!" I reply, my voice breaking as I try to wipe away the rest of my tears. "I would never dream of making it up, or doing anything to hurt you. Please, Virgil, I promise it's the truth. I couldn't control any of my actions."  
  
He sighs, blinking for a moment, letting this sink in. "Tin-Tin, you do realize how crazy it sounds, don't you?"  
  
I nod reluctantly, knowing it and hating it all the same.  
  
"But I believe you."  
  
I've never been more relieved to hear those four words than I was then. "You do?"  
  
"Yes. But before we speak of this any more, there's one thing you should do."  
  
"What's that?" I wipe my eyes with my robe, taking a deep breath to steady myself.  
  
"Call your father - and ask him if he suffered the same thing."  
  
"You mean if his attacks had a man talking to him too?"  
  
Virgil nods. "That's exactly what I mean. If it ties together, it'll be easier on all of us."  
  
"Easier to believe, you mean?" I venture quietly.  
  
He sighs once more and nods again. "Yes, easier to believe. For everyone."  
  
"Oh, but Virgil, how can I possibly tell my father what I tried to do?" I ask, pulling the blanket closer around myself to try and chase my shivers away.  
  
"Don't. Just simply ask; try to find out as much about his attacks as you can. He's never told anyone. Now that it's happening to someone else, maybe we can get to the bottom of this."  
  
I could only hope he's right. 


	25. Book Two: Call

The clock reads 5:12 in its ugly neon glow as I pick up the phone and hesitantly dial the numbers to the Tracy household. My hand shakes as I hold the old-fashioned phone to my ear, waiting for someone to pick up on the other side.  
  
That someone is Virgil's father, Mr. Tracy. His protest about it being five o'clock in the morning fades away when I speak. I know he can hear the urgency in my voice when I ask him to put my father on the line. A couple seconds later, I let out a soft sigh of relief into the receiver as my father greets me, his confusion clear.  
  
"Tin-Tin, are you okay?" He asks after a moment of silence. I don't know how to start to tell him what I want to.  
  
"No, father, actually, I'm not okay," I answer honestly. How could one be all right when she'd just tried to kill her boyfriend with a knife, now embedded in the wall, under the psychological power of a madman? Exactly. I wasn't all right.  
  
"What's wrong?" He always worries about me when I go away, but I'd never phoned him choking back tears like this before. "Did you have a fight with Mr. Virgil?"  
  
"No, father, I didn't have a fight with Virgil."  
  
"Tin-Tin, why are you repeating everything I say?"  
  
I'm stalling. That's what I'm doing, why I'm repeating what he says. "I'm buying time, I think."  
  
"Why, Tin-Tin? Whatever is bothering you, tell me." I hear the shift of his bed as he sits down upon it on Tracy Island, probably in the dark, the moonlight coming in the window.  
  
"Father. . .when you had your attacks, was there a reason for it?" I ask finally, wondering how to say all this to him.  
  
"I don't understand, Tin-Tin."  
  
I sigh and rub my head, seeing Virgil standing uncomfortably by the couch in the small hotel room, listening. "Was there someone talking to you, in your head, I mean?"  
  
I hear a sharp intake of breath that tells me I've definitely hit something. "Yes, Tin-Tin, there was."  
  
"Who is he? What did he do to you?"  
  
I can almost see the wheels turning in my father's head, wondering if he should tell me about it or not. "He is my half-brother, your half-uncle. He used me for information on International Rescue," he confesses after a moment.  
  
"Father! Why didn't you tell anyone about this?" I cry into the phone, shocked. But why would a relative of mine want information on the organization? I didn't completely understand who he was, what he wanted with International Rescue.  
  
"Tin-Tin, Mr. Tracy and his sons have always been good to us. If they knew I was a direct link to a very evil man, you and I would no longer be welcome to live with them." His tone is quiet and apologetic as he explains it to me.  
  
"A very evil man?" I repeat. It sounds much like the man that's using his powers on me.  
  
"Yes, Tin-Tin. International Rescue has encountered him several times because of me."  
  
"But father, you shouldn't blame yourself. I'm sure it was not solely because of you that this man - my half uncle - got near them."  
  
"It is. He will do anything to get near them, to bring them to an end or steal their secrets." He pauses for a moment. "He's using you, isn't he, Tin-Tin? Just like he used me."  
  
I bite my lip so hard I draw blood. "Yes, father. He's using me too."  
  
"Oh, Tin-Tin, I knew the symptoms you were showing were too similar to be a coincidence. Are you all right?"  
  
There's that question again. I dodge it completely this time. "Who is he, father? You said he was an evil man. What's his name?"  
  
"He's best known by the world as The Hood. Do you remember him?"  
  
My mouth nearly hits the ground. I'm related to him? To The Hood? "How could I not, father?" I exclaim, shock settling in. "He tried to sabotage the Fireflash I was on, and he caused that cave in just to lure International Rescue to that movie set!" He'd done numerous other things as well, but those were the ones that stayed as the freshest in my mind.  
  
"Yes, Tin-Tin, that's right." How can he be so calm at a time like this? I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs. I'm related to that wicked bastard? "What is he doing to you?"  
  
"Bad things, father. Very, very bad things," I answer, my breath coming shorter and faster now. I had to tell him what had happened.  
  
"Go on, Tin-Tin," he urged, anxiety creeping back into his voice.  
  
"He's taking me over," I begin, trying to collect my thoughts. The whole story came tumbling out then, tears running down my face as I let it pour out of me in a rush.  
  
When I was finished telling him absolutely everything, silence fell between us. I could tell he was speechless, he didn't know what to say.  
  
"That sounds like Belah," he says softly after a long moment.  
  
"Belah?" I ask, wiping at my eyes.  
  
"Belah Gaat. The Hood."  
  
"Oh." Even his name sounded sinister.  
  
"Tin-Tin, I think you should come back to the island sooner than you planned. Get some sleep, and tell Mr. Virgil you want to go home in the morning."  
  
I nod once before realizing he can't see it. "Yes, father, I'll do that." It's going to be damn hard to sleep after all this, but I'm so exhausted that I might be able to. "I think you should tell Mr. Tracy about what The Hood did to you."  
  
"No, Tin-Tin, for now, it's between us. Don't say a word to him," his voice is gentle but firm, and I know better than to go against him.  
  
"Yes, father." I take a deep breath, steadying myself. "I'll see you tomorrow when we arrive home."  
  
"Alright, Tin-Tin. Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight, father."  
  
"Oh, wait, Tin-Tin?" He cuts in quickly, right before I'm about to hang up.  
  
"Yes, father?"  
  
"If he comes back to you tonight, there's one thing you must do."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"At the first sign of him overpowering you, you must repeat his name over and over in your head. Not 'The Hood'. Call him Belah. He hates it; he'll likely leave you alone for a few hours. If he knows you know who he is, he'll be less likely to try to use you in case you tell someone."  
  
"But father, even if I did tell anyone, no one has ever been able to find him," I point out. "Will calling him Belah repeatedly make him go away for good?"  
  
"No, Tin-Tin. I'll help you get rid of him the same way I did when you get back here. Just sleep, and pray he leaves you be until you return to the island. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Yes, father, you will. Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight, Tin-Tin."  
  
I hang up the phone feeling better yet worse, less confused but even more puzzled. Virgil sits beside me on the bed, taking my hand in his and making me look up at him.  
  
"So, I take it your father had the same problem?" He asks gently, eyes searching mine.  
  
I nod. "Yes, he did. The exact same problem."  
  
"With the same man inside his head?"  
  
"Yes, the exact same man."  
  
"Then you'll be able to get rid of him how he did, right?" He sounds hopeful, like maybe we've found a cure for this 'disease' I have.  
  
I'm not so sure. 


	26. Book Two: Nightmare

_Hi there!  
I know this is a ridiculously short chapter, but we all have to start somewhere, right? It's been almost a full year since I touched this story, and, going back, I've been debating over whether I ought to finish it or not. So, with that said, I'm going to take small steps into completing it to the best of my ability. I don't know where this second book will go, but I hope I can somehow do the original some justice (if it does indeed deserve some). I like the idea of Tin-Tin's head being taken over by her evil half-uncle, and I just wish I had written that "brilliance" into something better than this!! Thanks for reading everyone, it means so much to me.  
I write for myself, but I keep writing for my reviewers :)  
Angelina

* * *

_

"Tin-Tin, why don't you try and get some rest?" Virgil suggests after another long conversation and quite a few tears from my end. I didn't add that I was related to this man - The Hood - or that he was after International Rescue, but he did pry for some more details.

Sometimes this certain quality of Virgil bugs me. He's always just so damn calm all the time, so levelheaded and grounded, that he never flies off the handle. There's a murderer in my head that almost ended his life and all he can do is tell me to get some sleep.

What the hell is up with that?

I grit my teeth and take a breath to keep from jumping down his throat. It's certainly not what either of us needs right now. "Easier said than done, I'd imagine."

"But you'll try, won't you? We've already been up most of the night."

I nod. "For you, Virgil, but only for you." I sigh and pull the blankets up around myself, feeling my weary limbs already beginning to relax.

He leans over and brushes his soft lips against my forehead sweetly before sliding down beside me in the dark. "Goodnight, Tin-Tin."

"Goodnight, Virgil." The words 'I love you' were on the tip of my tongue, but considering I had come quite close to killing him that night, I wasn't sure they quite fit. I didn't want to pressure him into returning them.

I felt his arm slide around me and welcomed it, moving in closer to his warmth.

I'm still not sure how I deserved someone like him, but at this moment, I was so glad I was his.

* * *

"Tin-Tin? Tin-Tin, wake up!"

The hands. The strong, strong hands. I can feel them, they're on my arms, holding me down, shaking me back and forth. There's a voice too... it's screaming at me, louder and louder, as if afraid that I'm not listening. Or that I can't hear.

"Tin-Tin!"

"No...!" I wail, voice scratchy and heavy with sleep. "No, no, leave me alone, please just leave me alone!" I thrash away from the hands, crying, screaming, tossing and turning and sweating with the effort of staying away from the hands.

"Tin-Tin, you're dreaming! Wake up!"

Dreaming. I don't know the meaning of the word. Not at this point, not at this stage. The Hood has me, he's holding me so tight, shaking me, calling me...

"Tin-Tin, wake up! It's just a nightmare!"

Nightmare. Now that's a word I know.Eyes flying open, I blink once, twice, three times, and finally focus on the shadow in the room. Not The Hood. Not Belah Gaat. Virgil. My Virgil.

"Tin-Tin?" His voice is soft now, sitting down beside me on the bed. "Tin-Tin, are you okay?"

I have grown to hate that question with a passion that almost rivals the passion I have for who's asking it.

I croak, sounding like a frog with a nasty cold, and swallow the contents of the glass of water he hands me as if I've been out in the hot Lake Anasta sun.Oh, what a memory. Another vacation that The Hood brought to an end. I nod then, wiping the small droplets off my lips with the back of my hand. I can't seem to get them to part long enough to speak.

"That must have been some nightmare. You almost knocked me full out of bed!" He tries to make light of the situation, but I can't find the humor in it.

After a pregnant pause, the silence filled just with one concerned gaze meeting one sleepy one, I clear my throat. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven. You certainly weren't asleep long. You must have been tired, and drifted off right away."

I just nod once more, putting my head back down on the pillow. I wish I could just sleep peacefully, without my mind being corrupted, or without dreaming of it, even. It had been a long night, and not for a good reason, either.

He pushes the covers off of himself and gets out of bed, stretching and pushing his rumpled hair out of his eyes. If I had not been in such a dire mood, I would have admired his half-naked form, clad in just boxer shorts, wandering around the room as he collected his things for a shower and shave.

Had this been a regular morning on a regular vacation, I'd have been organizing myself for my own shower. But I was so tired that I couldn't bring myself to bother, sure he wouldn't mind if I went home in my pajamas.

Of course, I was not going to go to the airport in my little lace nightie, thank you very much.

A few more minutes of sleep, I decided. Just a few, now that I have to wait for Virgil to get out of the shower anyway...

I drifted off, the warm breeze that fluttered the curtains brushing my hair out of my eyes and cooling my face.

"Thought you could avoid me, didn't you?"


End file.
